Love college or shut up

This unhappiness is rarely professed and even more rarely displayed. It goes unnoticed by most of her social circle but insidiously colors her every experience here. She is not depressed; she simply does not like the University. I have known about this friend’s issues with the glorified “college experience” since the beginning of the year. We frequently discussed Princeton; we measured reality against our goals and expectations, finding some aspects of college life wanting and some wonderful.

Running below the surface of these complaint fests, however, I could sense real, deep-seated discontent. Something had not, and still has not, clicked for my friend. She is not having the “time of her life” prescribed by the media and perpetuated by nostalgic alumni — quite the opposite. This is particularly bizarre in light of how positive her college experience sounds on paper. She has joined multiple student groups, formed strong new friendships and chosen classes that excite and challenge her. Yet she is still fundamentally uncomfortable at Princeton.

What troubles me most about my friend’s situation is the limited number of people who know of it. She has chosen to confide in very few friends. As the year goes on, her reticence on the subject noticeably increases as her unhappiness deepens. Her closest friends rarely hear about how out of place she feels. Taking her silence for a sign that she was adjusting, I was shocked the other day to discover how little her attitude has changed since the beginning of the year. When I asked her why she keeps her discontent under wraps, she said that the subject feels taboo on campus. There is something in the college culture that discourages confessions of unhappiness. The general student attitude seems to be, “If you don’t like Princeton, we don’t want to hear about it.”

This knee-jerk instinct to immediately reject a negative view of our University is a by-product of one of the most valuable community-building tools any university has: school pride. This is a healthy, constructive phenomenon that motivates students to respect, enjoy and give back to their academic environment. However, school pride can also contribute to an intensified isolation of those who don’t take part in it. When school pride leads to a situation where students are reluctant to tell friends how unhappy they are, it is no longer constructive.

Campus discussion, whether it takes place in student publications or casual conversation between friends, has always been replete with criticisms of certain University policies (insert your favorite grade deflation joke here), traditions and stereotypes. However, criticism unalloyed by the usual accompanying appreciation for everything Princeton has to offer is unwelcome. It is seen as antisocial and even offensive. This reaction is limiting and illogical: limiting in that we have much to gain from the insights of students who are unhappy with their college choice and illogical because it is statistically improbable for 5,000 students to unanimously adore Princeton. There will always be at least a handful of students who earnestly dislike the school, and their voices should be given a courteous, sympathetic hearing. They deserve this hearing for two reasons. First, some of the best suggestions for improvement may well come from those not wearing the rose-colored glasses of cultish Princeton idolization. The second reason is to provide help and support for discontented undergraduates. There are plenty of options available: They can join the USG and proactively change the aspects of college that most disturb them, reach out to one of their many campus advisors or, in the most drastic cases, choose to transfer elsewhere. Until they can publicly, confidently give voice to their unhappiness, however, these students will not be able to improve their situation. It is difficult to fix a problem that you can’t talk about.

We need to accept the unhappy students in our midst as a fact of every college environment. No matter how wonderful our University is, there will inevitably be students whose overall experience here is negative. The size of this group will vary, and I believe that the way to keep the numbers small is by openly, compassionately addressing their problems rather than pretending that they don’t exist. We need to create a social atmosphere that encourages our friends to speak up when they find themselves miserable in their college environment. Most students have a support network to carry them through mental sloughs brought on by work-related stress, hangovers and those frequent emotional breakdowns that follow severe sleep deprivation. Somehow, that network is not in place for the student who just doesn’t like Princeton. This must change. Be there for your friends, whether they love college or not. For their sake, and in the interest of the overall quality of our campus community, let the unhappy students be heard.

Tehila Wenger is a freshman from Columbus, Ohio. She can be reached at twenger@princeton.edu.