After a cross-country road trip and some time in France this summer, Pam moved to New York to begin her life as Uma—an “alternative electronic soul” singer ready to take the NYC music scene by storm.
Amantia Muhedini, one of two Albanian students at Princeton—who expects that at a certain point in your friendship, you will start calling her Ama (or momma Ama) and whose grandfather began the first bookshop in Albania after communism—claiming to have little attachment to home while discussing her attachment to tea and jewelry, to her parents’ coffee-shop-library, and to language. She sits cross-legged in one of the ethnically decorated room’s many chairs, mug in hand.
I have been many things throughout my tenure at Princeton—a human, a tiger, a journalist, drunk—but I have never been a lady. Through no fault of their own, approximately one half of mankind never experiences the triumphs and challenges of womanhood, and I am destined to remain among them.
Migrants in Greece find much-needed work as translators for aid organizations. Translation work represents a rare bright spot amid gloomy employment prospects for recently arrived migrants.
I heard this from someone who’d heard it from one of the directors of this year’s production of The Vagina Monologues here at Princeton. Intrigued by the pairing of frat boys and vaginas (in monologue form), I reached out to this year’s directors, Azza Cohen ’16 and Olivia Robbins ’16, to get the full story of what happened at Penn and to see if anything similar was happening at Princeton.
