Week 3 Reflections in the Snow
The rigor is here!
And I feel like I am veritably dying in my classes, metaphorically. It can’t be denied that being at Princeton as a student is a privilege. Although it’s very easy to become out of touch with the outside world when walking around the very safe pedestrian campus commonly referred to as “the orange bubble.” You wake up, go to breakfast, hustle to class, then hustle to lunch and hustle to class again, and then meander your way to dinner, all while trying to carve out study time in-between.
Commonly, the majority of students have various extracurricular expectations and requirements that take up an exorbitant amount of time. This is optional and something they choose to do for various reasons: passion, personal interest, career goals, etc. They lose sleep, somehow finish homework, and study for tests and quizzes that seem to creep up out of nowhere as week after week flies in and flies by at lightning speed. It is a disorienting, sometimes discombobulating experience wherein, as a student, you’re trying to juggle what feels like twenty things at once, all while trying to keep your sanity under the mounting pressure from homework that only continues to pile.
I’ve tried multiple strategies so far. One has been office hours for my math course; another has been trying to go to bed early and wake up extremely early—as early as 2am, to be exact. Another strategy is using the Pomodoro strategy of studying for 2 hours with 5-minute breaks in between, especially when focusing on one subject at a time for 1 of those two hours.
More recently, I went to my academic dean’s office and received guidance on how to better structure my study time to be as productive as possible. On top of using the Pomodoro method, I’ve come to understand that “balancing” my classes means assigning certain days and times to specific classes. Originally, I would attempt to devote the majority of my time to my most critical class—French.
That, in turn, would make me critically behind in my other three courses, wherein my strategy would be to simply skip a precept that I wasn’t prepared for and use that skipped time to work on other homework for a different class that I’d somehow gotten behind in. After speaking to my dean, I’ve come to realize that I can work on my French work in the early morning and follow it up with work in my other classes in the afternoon, then devote a particular day on the weekend to my three easier courses and then one day to French to ensure I stay on top of everything.
In reflection, I have to give credence where it is due. Princeton's support system is strong, and professors are more than willing to help their students succeed if only the student in question reaches out. I think for many students, reaching out for help can feel demoralizing, as if one is a failure or is stupid, but in actuality, it is better to speak up than to stay silent and fail. To fail amongst the enormity of resources that the university provides is, in a sense, an active choice.
Even I’m hesitant at times to reach out and am guilty of preferring to complain to my friends and fellow students about my struggles rather than speak to a faculty member trained, ready, and happy to guide me into more productive strategies than quietly whining. I’d be likely to admit that this semester, as I’ve become more outgoing due to not actively writing a book alongside my classes, I’ve taken on a clearer lens of just what kind of institution I find myself in. Princeton is a place that offers enormous opportunities, puts students in contact with expert and often brilliant faculty, and does its best to challenge its students to grow rapidly into adults and future leaders who may have influence in the world.
Hello! We’re D.J. Hoskins
We are Davena and Jason Hoskins, co-authors of 30+ books and siblings who write under the pseudonym D.J. Hoskins. Three years apart and in our twenties, we have been fascinated by stories from a young age. Davena is a student attending Princeton University, and Jason attends Georgetown University.
