Honor your mater

"So, where do you go to school?”

The answer is simple, but this seemingly benign question can have even the most eloquent Princetonians stumbling over their words. I’ve heard many people cop to mumbling something to the effect of “Oh, a small school in New Jersey.” That cagey response inevitably prompts the asker to say “Where in New Jersey?” and the students are forced to spill the Ivy League beans, despite their attempts at evasion. People defend themselves by saying that they’re trying to avoid the sometimes uncomfortable attention that being a Princeton student generates, but I think it takes a little more than that to turn a precept gladiator into a shrinking violet outside the bubble.

One major reason that hiding our school affiliation does more harm than good is that our attempt to cushion the blow of dropping the P-bomb comes off infinitely more pretentious than just answering the question. And while I do think that the people who employ this method are trying, on some level, to be modest, it’s fairly clear that modesty is not the effect. You might as well have said “I don’t know how to put this, but I’m kind of a big deal.” So what really puts some people on edge about just saying “Princeton”? I think that, for many, it’s the discomfort of being “the smart kid” that makes us timid, and that is an attitude that’s important to shake even when your answer could create an awkward situation.

This summer, on a group tour with my family, my Princeton affiliation prompted fellow tourists to ask me to explain everything from how Venice managed its sewage system to the stability of the seat of Italy’s prime minister. One time, a woman in the group asked me if I knew what a long Roman numeral on the base of a statue was, and as I added it up she laughed and said, “Oh! You’re actually doing it?” I don’t doubt that she just meant it to be some lighthearted ribbing, but I still felt, at times, like some sort of carnival oddity. The occasional feeling of being on the other side of the bars is something that we all need to learn to deal with when we’re away from the security of Princeton.

In one of my classes, a guest lecturer spoke to us about going into the engineering job market. He flatly told us that when we make mistakes, people are going to notice. He said, “If you went to State U., like I did, people don’t care if you mess up, but when you go to Princeton” — he chuckled — “people are just waiting for you to crash.” It’s easy to say we won’t worry about that as we soak up the positive attention we often garner from our Princeton affiliation, but it’s the people waiting for us to slip up who we need to muster the gumption to stand up to. I think it’s safe to say that most people here are unaccustomed to getting negative feedback when they work hard, and personally, I’m too easily frustrated when people dismiss my ideas. It’s important to know how to carry on and let the occasional snide comment roll off our backs.

Beyond a more efficient way to handle awkward conversations, it’s important to own our ties to Princeton because the attitude will affect how we do our work once we leave the safety of this academic environment. Hiding our affiliation reflects a fear of being unfairly judged when we stumble or of being viewed as an outsider. If a person holds back his school name for fear of what people will think, chances are this same paranoia will prevent him from using the knowledge and skills that make the name worth anything at all. If we’re silenced by the fear that people will ridicule our mistakes, or that we will be seen as hostile or prideful if we assert our ideas, we can’t be effective workers.

All of this isn’t to say that we need to be aggressive about making our contributions heard, or that we deserve to go around being snobs. There are plenty of other intelligent and hard-working people in the world who will challenge us and sometimes beat us at our own games, and there are times we need to purposely share the spotlight. However, there’s no shame in acknowledging that this is a great school and that we are some of the fortunate few who are given this education. Whether we succeed at what we do or fail trying, we should do it with confidence, and anyone who may pass judgement on that can deal with it. To quote the great Ms. Frizzle, “Take chances! Make mistakes!” Wear the orange and black proudly, and don’t be afraid to use what your mater gave you.

Sophia LeMaire is a mechanical and aerospace engineering major from Longmeadow, Mass. She can be reached at slemaire@princeton.edu.