Office hours signage. Photo Credit: Weingarten Center, University of Pennsylvania
If you’re like me, you’ve been here. Standing awkwardly outside your professor’s door, notes in hand, heart racing slightly as you rehearse your question for the tenth time. When I first got to Princeton, my professors felt larger than life – giants in their field, accomplished researchers and authors. As an undergraduate, I felt like an ant in comparison. I felt afraid to go to their office hours, because their time felt so much more valuable than mine.
Glass brain plots from the data analysis of the project I’m working on with my mentor, who spends a couple hours every week going through the fundamentals of coding in neuroscience with me. When I started working with him, I didn’t even know I could make plots like these. Our weekly meetings paid off.
When I first came to Princeton, already interested in neuroscience research, I kept hearing about all the incredible opportunities available to undergraduates. Professors conducting groundbreaking neuroscience studies, cutting-edge labs filled with brilliant minds—it all sounded amazing. But as a first-year student, I had no idea how to actually get involved. Everyone seemed to know what they were doing, while I was stuck wondering: Where do I even start? Will a professor really take time to mentor someone like me? If I cold-email them, will they even read it?
Each spring semester, it feels like many of us find ourselves scrambling to find unique, competitive, and exciting research experiences. In these intense weeks full of interviews, rejections, and offers, it is also important to think ahead about what comes next. Although staying connected with your research team after a program or internship ends can present a unique set of challenges, it can just as easily open up a number of new opportunities. This was a dynamic I had to adjust to at the end of my research internship last summer. Through that personal experience, I have found that consistent and clear communication are key after any research experience.
Hailing from Saipan and South Korea, Cevina Hwang is a junior in the Ecology & Evolutionary Biology department. With a longstanding interest in the field of dentistry, she chose to expand upon this passion through her junior work, where she will be exploring the evolution of the human jaw and teeth.
Join me below to read about Cevina’s journey in the junior work process.
Organic Chemistry Lab Procedure in Frick, taken by Haya Elamir
For STEM majors, lab components of classes can be cumbersome. They can add stress to the classroom experience–not to mention the long hours. Unlike research in a lab as part of a thesis or independent work, these labs may not allow for self-direction, and can feel very methodical. Sure, they apply what we are taught in class, but for me personally, the rates at which lab and lecture move can be quite different, and I do not fee the benefits of the lab experience until later on in the semester when it finally clicks for me.
The start of 2025 has been an interesting one to say the least when it comes to research. New breakthroughs in Artificial Intelligence models are rapidly advancing our understanding of everything from ancient texts to protein structures. At the same time, they have complicated the publishing process by introducing a flood of junk to scientific journals. Turning to the federal level, years of biomedical research has culminated in the FDA approval of a new non-opioid pain medication. Developments like this are happening while major national pillars of our research structure face confusing directives amidst a clear priority shift in budget allocation. The degree of uncertainty researchers at the undergraduate level face today can feel overwhelming, but uncertainty is intrinsic to research across all disciplines. Whether that uncertainty is caused by human participants or dated lab equipment, it’s an aspect of research across the board. The unique large-scale uncertainties confronting researchers today can be faced using the same ways uncertainty is addressed during the research process.
For Princeton students, it’s not premature to start thinking about summer. If anything, this post may be a little behind for some of those proactive students. Rest assured though, you are not behind if you have not started the search for summer internships (even though many students will say they’ve already applied). Opportunities are aplenty, and no, you are not behind if you didn’t start applying for research internships back in the womb.
Detail from the façade of East Pyne, Princeton’s shield and motto. “Dei Sub Numine Viget” (Under God’s Power She Flourishes.) Photo Credit: John Jameson.
From philosophy, theology, history, and politics to taxonomy and medicine, Latin is doubtless one of the most important academic languages in history. Unfortunately, its status as a ‘dead language’ tends to repel many, and myths of its arcane and difficult nature often discourage learners. Another problem is that this mystique is perpetuated in many Latin language classrooms: the ‘dead language’ is truly treated as such, with little to no emphasis placed on speaking or pronunciation and all stress (in both senses of the word) lying on the rote memorization of grammar tables.
However, learning Latin need not be cumbersome, nor strike fear into our hearts. Rather, noli timere (be not afraid). The Classics Department offers excellent instruction and tutoring. Moreover, since course prerequisites can and often do interfere with language study during the semester, there are also great alternatives for self-study. Online and print resources abound for this timeless language and are tailored to a variety of learning styles.
A Terracotta lekythos (oil flask) depicting Thetis in chariot with winged horses flying over the sea accompanied by the messenger gods, Iris and Hermes, as described in the last book of the Iliad.Photo credit: Sappho Painter, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
When asked about what courses I’m taking and I share the list, I’m often greeted with blank stares or curious expressions. The response I elicit is, “Why are you making life so hard on yourself?” And no, it’s not because I’m loading up on a truckload of courses like physics, math, chemistry, and computer science.
As a classics major-turned-premed, my schedule has me jumping from subject to subject across disciplines. My days consist of learning about synthesis reactions in organic chemistry in a massive lecture hall, and puzzling over Plato in ancient Greek with a circle of 7 classmates. My head spinning with Greek letters and grammatical constructions, I head for immunology, and then back again to read Latin literature. As STEM and humanities classes are often located on opposite sides of campus, I find myself trekking up and down Washington Road multiple times a day. Aside from getting my daily steps in, what exactly do I get for doing this?
Fireworks on the 4th of July, taken at the closest firework show to campus this past summer
As a Princeton student, the possibilities for summer are exciting but can also feel overwhelming. Between research opportunities, internships, volunteering, and even traveling, it’s easy to feel like everyone around you is planning something impressive. But the key to a fulfilling summer isn’t about packing in as much as possible—it’s about finding what fits your personal goals and needs, whether that’s academic growth or much-needed rest.
