How many Princeton students does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Two. One to mix the martinis, and one to call the electrician.
Ivy League light-bulb jokes tend to be funny because they're at least partially based on truth. New Haven really isn't all that attractive. Harvard really offers a course on its own history. But then, are Princetonians actually lazy, possibly alcoholic snobs? I don't think we're lazy. I actually change the light bulbs for my lamps on my own. If we didn't, there'd be no point to the eco-friendly light bulb exchanges. Whether Princetonians enjoy the drink too much is dependent on the Princetonian in question and in any case, my understanding is that the drink of choice isn't the martini. Are we elitists? OK. I admit that point. Guilty as charged. But we aren't all that much more elitist than any other Ivy League school. We may have the eating clubs, but Yale and Harvard have their own even more exclusive little societies. Clearly, the joke belongs to some bygone era, probably chronicled in "This Side of Paradise."
Simply put: Princeton ain't what it used to be. This column's very existence is proof enough: It's written by a female who is not a legacy, is on financial aid and is by no account a WASP. Also: Note pithy disregard of the Queen's English. Some people, of course, lament Princeton's fall from glory. As a TigerCaller, I can attest that there are still alumni who refuse to donate money to the University because Princeton admits women.
Still, I think most Princetonians are glad that Princeton has evolved away from F. Scott Fitzgerald, Class of 1917's "pleasantest country club in America." So why then does the outdated stereotype of antiquated, WASP-centric elitism remain? Inertia. When it comes to inclusion, Princeton has a pretty lousy history. Our much-beloved Woodrow Wilson, Class of 1879, was by all accounts a devout racist, and his racial convictions served to tinge the school's history. The most harrowing anecdote concerns a black student from New York who was "accidentally" admitted and sent packing almost as soon as he arrived on campus. Princeton produced sons like Carl C. Brigham, Class of 1912, a eugenicist who concluded that blacks and immigrants were genetically inferior to the extent that miscegenation posed a serious threat to the American nation; this charming man, by the way, headed the committee that created the SAT in 1926. The martini-sipping fops are mostly gone - even their names are mostly forgotten, but the shadows they cast are long.
I almost didn't come to Princeton because of its somewhat sinister, largely outdated reputation of being the southernmost school in the Ivy League (those with a sense of geography will know what I mean by southernmost; apologies to Southerners who take offense at the implication - I am a New Yorker with strong ties to New England and am employing a possibly outdated stereotype of my own.) If former USG president Leslie-Bernard Joseph '06 hadn't reassured me that Princeton wasn't nearly as bad as it was cracked up to be, all of my plush tigers would look out of place in New Haven, Conn.
Princeton is changing, and Princeton's reputation is changing too, but the myth lags behind reality. The findings of the COMBO survey might seem to imply that Princeton is not as equal as it would like to be, but on another level, COMBO's very existence is a testament to the march of progress.
Yet so long as inertia has a hold on our reputation, people will continue to ask the wrong questions. Generally speaking, the questions prospective students should be asking shouldn't be about Fitzgerald's Princeton. What I love about Princeton has nothing to do with the history recounted in the pages of "The Chosen" and little to do with the past pictured in "The Making of Princeton University," largely because that isn't the Princeton I know. I love writing for The Daily Princetonian. I love talking to nice alumni. I love that Princeton has sent me abroad three times. I love chatting with faculty and staff. None of this has to do with mixing martinis or Bicker or rush.
So what to do about our outdated reputation? The University already reaches out to students of diverse backgrounds whose main understanding of Princeton might very well come from obsolete stereotypes, and it's quite clear that the University is undertaking initiatives to evolve the reality on campus. Something more needs to be done: I think we have to grapple with our ghosts by discussing and coming to terms with our history, so that we can take the skeletons from the closet to the graveyard. Other than that, someone should probably come up with a more accurate (and funnier) light-bulb joke.
Martha Vega-Gonzalez is a history major from New York, N.Y. She can be reached at mvega@princeton.edu.