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            Web Exclusives: 
              Under the Ivy 
              a column by Jane Martin paw@princeton.edu 
             
            March 
              9, 2005: 
             The 
              melting pot  
              50 years ago, one University house 
              offered a global mosaic 
             “Diversity” has been a campus buzzword for years now, 
              with universities around the country trying to show off the wide 
              variety of their students’ backgrounds. Princeton, in particular, 
              has had a tough time changing its image, working to combat the country-club, 
              Princeton Charlie stereotype made famous by F. Scott Fitzgerald 
              ’17 nearly 100 years ago. 
              Still, it is not entirely surprising to find the myth of Princeton 
              homogeneity to be just that—a myth. Though surely the majority 
              of undergraduates throughout the 20th century were Caucasian, Protestant 
              men from upper-income households, the Graduate School has long attracted 
              scholars from all over the world. The April 22, 1955, issue of PAW 
              carried a story about an unusual group of Princeton students and 
              employees, all living in a University-owned building at 47 University 
              Place.
              The Gordons were from Jamaica. Mr. Gordon – pictured with 
              his wife having their afternoon tea in their apartment – was 
              a former editor of Jamaica’s newspaper who had earned one 
              bachelor’s degree in his home country and a second at Canada’s 
              McGill University. He was studying toward a combined Ph.D. from 
              the Woodrow Wilson School and the economics department, writing 
              his dissertation on Jamaica’s economic policy as a British 
              dependency.
              A Swedish-speaking Finnish family, the Idstrums, was in Princeton 
              so that Mr. Idstrum could complete an engineering degree. While 
              he also held a research assistantship, his wife worked at a local 
              nursery school, and still found time to knit a beautiful Nordic 
              sweater for their three-and-a-half-year-old son, Christian, who 
              was pictured trying it on.
              French native Henry Jacqz, who already had a master’s from 
              the Woodrow Wilson School, was working toward a degree in economics. 
              He gave lessons in French and in riding to undergraduates, and his 
              American wife commuted to a job in New York, leaving precious little 
              time for their son – also three-and-a-half and also named 
              Christian.
              Princeton Ph.D. Frederick Liu, who earned his physics degree in 
              the late 1940s, was working at the Forrestal Research Center as 
              the head of the Central Electronic Recording Room and as such was 
              “the top instrumentation man in jet propulsion and rocket 
              combustion studies, “according to PAW. The impressive Dr. 
              Liu had been at the head of his class at the Chinese Naval Aviation 
              School; he shot down a handful of Japanese planes and was wounded 
              twice in World War II. Once the United States entered the war, PAW 
              wrote, “his extraordinary knowledge of China and Formosa, 
              where his father was in command of the defense forces before that 
              island fell to the Japanese, was utilized by the Joint Chiefs of 
              Staff and the State Department.” In his spare time, Dr. Liu 
              wrote a military history of modern China that was scheduled to be 
              published by the Princeton University Press. He and his wife had 
              two sons, one eight and one, yes, three-and-a-half, though not named 
              Christian.
              The most poignant story of this miniature League of Nations, however, 
              belonged to the Goto family. While one of their grown children was 
              fighting for the U.S. in Italy in World War II, the Japanese couple 
              ran a restaurant in southern California – until 1942, when 
              their property was confiscated and they were sent to a Wyoming detention 
              camp. While there, however, PAW wrote that Mr. Goto “became 
              fascinated by the fossils he found in the area.” He sent many 
              of them to Princeton Professor Glenn Jepsen ’27 for identification, 
              and became determined to come himself to Princeton to work on fossils. 
              “After two years of prodding and a fruitless mission all the 
              way to Princeton,” PAW recorded, “Mr. Goto was finally 
              employed in the laboratory with a small sum of money obtained especially 
              for that purpose by Professor Jepsen.” PAW noted further that 
              “through the good offices of the University, Sen. H. Alexander 
              Smith 1901 for the third time is introducing a bill in Congress 
              to permit Mr. and Mrs. Goto to make an $8,000 claim for their confiscated 
              property – a possibility they were unaware of until three 
              days after the deadline had passed.” 
              Mr. and Mrs. Goto were pictured seated around a coffee table decorated 
              by Mr. Goto with a mosaic made of colorful stones he had found in 
              Wyoming – a mosaic in the shape of a map of the United States 
              of America.  
               
            Jane Martin 89 is PAW's former editor-in-chief. You can 
              reach her at paw@princeton.edu 
              
              
              
            
             
               
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