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Web
Exclusives: Comparative Life
a PAW web exclusive column by By Kristen Albertsen '02 (email:
albertsn@princeton.edu)
May
15 , 2002:
Senior
check out
Or just checking
out as a senior
By Kristen Albertsen
'02
In my experience, checking out of a hotel always occurs much too
early in the morning. Guests are required to wake at an hour inappropriate
of any vacation, to haphazardly toss clothes, shoes, and an extra
bar of soap in a bag, and to race downstairs only to face a large
and inscrutable bill (Did we really make five long-distance calls
to Newfoundland? Oh, that must have been when we were trying to
schedule the wake-up call).
Today, I found that Senior Check-out — the penultimate rite
of passage for every senior before Fitz-Randolph Gate — occurs
much too early as well. Graduation is still nearly a month away,
and feels like much more. Over the course of this endless month
I will undoubtedly lose the Commencement tickets, given to me this
morning, under the piles of leftover thesis books. My cap and gown
will be buried alive under the encroaching pile of unwashed laundry.
I'm not ready to face the frozen smiles of my friends in the yearbook,
and I am certainly not ready to commit myself to a permanent address
next fall.
Despite the meek protests I made to my pillow this morning before
crawling out of bed, all members of the Class of 2002 were required
to attend Senior Check-out. Thus began the first of many bureaucratic
experiences that will grace my adult life in the "real world."
First, each senior was required to fill out an eight-page Scantron
survey, recalling those heady days of the SATs five long years ago.
Questions ranged from the premature (What do I think of Comprehensive
Exams? Haven't taken them yet, much less started studying) to the
woefully tardy (suggestions for library improvements would have
been much more gladly given before my thesis was due). We were interrogated
on matters from diversity to departments to dining services. The
entire experience was reminiscent of a hotel comment card —
a hotel that housed its guests for four years, and provided a diploma
with the receipt.
Next, ’02ers were inundated with caps, gowns, beer jackets,
and the opportunity to buy Princeton apparel. At the Princeton Club
station, we were graciously offered a bright orange bag to carry
all of our possessions, along with fliers extolling the virtues
of Princeton Clubs around the globe. Finally, sweating in the sultry
New Jersey spring under the mountain of black gowns and orange sweatpants,
we were approached by seniors with simpering smiles requesting pledges
of money. Under this innocuous guise I detected their Faustian goal,
and, unable to resist, I pledged myself to Princeton for the next
four years, watching my diet at graduate school dwindle from spaghetti
to peanut-butter-and-jelly.
With my suitcase full of souvenirs and my wallet empty of cash and
capital, I stumbled out into the morning. It was time to relinquish
the vacation of the past few weeks — thesis celebrations, birthdays,
Houseparties — and get back to work for final and comprehensive
exams. Well, not quite — tonight is the night of the "Baptize
the Beer Jacket" Bash, and I get to be a senior at Princeton
for a little while longer. 
You can reach Kristen
at albertsn@princeton.edu
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