Refusing to sell short the undergraduate population

After a week of midterms, intellectualism may be a sore subject. We've spent the past five days reading pages of texts, struggling through practice problems, and completing exams. I, for one, am tired. Yet, the undergraduate student body goes into fall break with the accusation of anti-intellectualism hanging over its head. In the U-Council's letter to the University community, and in one or two 'Prince' editorials, students have been taken to task for failing to join in the intellectual life of Princeton. While I respect that the U-Council's letter was written to encourage dialogue, when reading it for the first time, I had to wonder: Where do these people go to school?

The students I work and live with are among the most brilliant individuals I have ever known. They are talented artists, politicians, musicians, writers and athletes, and yet each and every one manages also to be a scholar, contributing his own ideas to campus dialogue. The U-Council begins its letter with concerns about academic life. Students, they contend, do not initiate discussion in precept and rarely attend office hours. While I question how widespread either of these problems is, their root cause is hardly a lack of intellectualism on the part of students. Office hours are often scheduled during athletic practices or routine class times. Precepts, meanwhile, are notoriously flawed. Many preceptors are so eager to be politically correct, they shy away from conflict, discouraging debate. On more than one occasion, I have left a precept dissatisfied, only to find myself engaging a friend or classmate about issues in the course on the walk back to my room or around the dinner table. These discussions may not be conducted under the watchful eyes of graduate students or professors, but they are no less valuable or illuminating.

The U-Council also takes issue with how undergraduates use their down time. "For most undergraduates, life outside of course work is characterized by a strict dichotomy between structured, resume building extracurricular activities and activities that provide a mindless release," its members write, crossing the line between constructive and insulting. The portrait the letter paints of Princeton students is both unflattering and absurd. Those students who participate in the vast array of campus groups can hardly be written off as merely advancing their resumes. Whether it be writing articles for The Daily Princetonian, organizing a political protest, mentoring local schoolchildren, or rehearsing for a play at Theater Intime, the time and energy Princetonians put into their activities belie such accusations. Princeton students do engage in "mindless release" at times, but I would rather not live on a campus bereft of such activities, whether watching a movie in a friend's room or dancing in an eating club. The reality is that Princetonians do a remarkable job of mixing the intellectual and the everyday. My friends and I, hardly unique among the student body, often discuss political problems, philosophical dilemmas and artistic influences. Our conversations are no less valid because they are followed by musings on dating, homework or lack of sleep. Academic pursuits alone are not enough to sustain an existence.

The real problem the U-Council seems to have is with the "Organizational Kid" mentality, the ethic of success and advancement that many find pervasive among our generation. It is hardly surprising, or new, however, that Princeton students would be driven to succeed or want to achieve fame or fortune upon graduation. Sitting among my classmates, many of whom want to be senators, doctors or investment bankers, I see both ambition and intellect. The two are not mutually exclusive. It is easy to condemn young people for being too focused on career and accomplishment, but to do so ignores the research, scholarship and innovation being conducted by students every day.

I do not doubt that the motivations of U-Council members in drafting this letter were good. Still, it is time someone stepped up and defended the undergraduate community. Most already take advantage of what Princeton has to offer, seeking out professors, attending lectures, and most importantly, learning from one another. We also realize that life, particularly college life, is about balance. Our four years here would be wasted if we passed up the opportunity to spend time hanging out with friends, going to parties or playing frisbee on Cannon Green. The U-Council, in raising this issue, has attempted to engage the student population, an inherently intellectual act. This is an admirable endeavor, but it is dangerous to sell short such impressive people. I am never more grateful to be at Princeton than when around my fellow undergraduates, with all their talents and intellect. In our quest for dialogue, let us not ignore these traits or forget just how special the Princeton community really is. Katherine Reilly is a sophomore from Short Hills, Nj. She can be reached at kcreilly@princeton.edu.