Don't whine, opine

I’ve been working with the Opinion section of the ‘Prince’ since the fall semester of my freshman year. The two-and-a-half years that I’ve spent opining in some form or another have led to interactions with a variety of cyber acquaintances, including Mr. Hat, Chief Illiniwek and Aztec Warrior — all of whom have driven me to that important conclusion: Trolls are to columns what Princeton’s rabid squirrels are to terrified freshmen.

It makes sense. Cut-and-dried fact is difficult to criticize outright. It is a lot easier to attack a position that is based on personal beliefs and individual thoughts. You say that six residential colleges exist? OK. You say that you think they’re a good idea? Bang.

But I’ve learned to regard these comments as a point of pride (with the exception of “little girl writing her diary entries.” I am not little. I am big and scary and mean.) People care about what we write and how we write it — if for no other reason than to disagree with it — presenting us with an opportunity to start dialogue, express a view on a contentious issue or, simply, entertain.

I certainly never thought that I would become as wedded to this page as I have: Opinion and I have an oscillating love-hate relationship. But from the very first time that I walked into 48 University Place (and got lost three times on the way), it has been a rewarding and enriching experience. I once wrote a column about how Princeton was in dire need of more open and intellectual discussion. I said that students at Princeton were unwilling to discuss controversial and difficult issues with honesty, as they were too concerned with appearances and political correctness. This is not a problem that plagues the Opinion section. People say and write what they think. The opportunity to sit down and debate candidly with someone about an issue of importance to you is rare and is one of the true joys of being an Opinion writer.

And as members of this section, you learn from each other. Yes, that is the cliche recited at the beginning of every precept. But it’s true. Let me demonstrate from my own experience. I’m a junior in the philosophy department from Bombay, India. I learn from the math major who writes about the importance of quantitative skills (and I get depressed about it). I learn from the wisecracks and political analysis of a Whig-Clio debater. I learn from the Pakistani who writes about what it’s like to be a Muslim in this day and age. I learn from the sarcasm and impeccable research of a Latin-speaking New Yorker.

Join the Opinion section. Don’t settle for complaining about unreasonable distribution requirements to your roommate at 3 a.m. and receiving indiscernible grunts in reply. Become a columnist: air your grievances on a pretty black-and-white page with a smiling picture of yourself accompanying the text and receive multiple online comments in reply. Complaints aren’t your style? Well, first, God bless you. But second, write about that eye-opening experience you had studying abroad in Cairo. Or write about what it’s like to be a Republican at Princeton. Or why you think our percentage increase in applications is so low. Or what your take is on the Arts and Transit Neighborhood proposal. Or ... hummus.

That is not to say that the Opinion section is always full of insightful analyses or dazzling wit. It isn’t. But this year, I hope to make it as effective as it has the potential to be, whether as a forum for discussion, a quick laugh during midterm week, a platform for new ideas, a social commentary or a unique perspective into Princeton life.

I draw the line at toilet paper though. Come on, people. That’s our faces you’re using.