According to the mission statement of the Women’s Center—and the general consensus (I think) of many students on campus—the space is first and foremost “a resource for student activism on gender-related issues.”  Many students may think that because they don’t harbor a feminist agenda, the center does not offer any sort of relevance to their daily lives. As an intern who began working here at the beginning of this year, I will testify that I believed this to be true last year as well.

What I’ve found, though, and what I want people to know, is that the Women’s Center can be anything you need it to be. If you’re looking for a quiet space to work, our library is almost always open. If you need a mug of coffee or tea and a chat with a friend, our couches are comfortable and the drinks are free. And if you’re struggling with something—anything—there’s always someone here available to talk.

The center operates with the goal of fostering undergraduate well-being, in a broad sense, on campus. Last week for Valentine’s Day, for example, we handed out chocolates to students who wrote a valentine sharing what they like best about themselves. We hosted a “Concerned Friends” lunch discussion for friends of people with eating disorders to speak confidentially to a psychologist about how to offer support in a healthy, mutually beneficial way. We brought in Alexis Andres, the Director of Student Life at Butler College, to present her doctoral research on “effortless perfection,” the phenomenon that we need to present ourselves as being “perfect” without trying or working too hard. We sponsor campus-wide events. We lend our conference room to student groups. We host study breaks (chocolate fondue, anyone?).

Speaking for myself, my experience at Princeton has been significantly enriched by my time spent here. I’ve met other women from all around the world that I may never have crossed paths with otherwise. I’ve had great and thought-provoking conversations, by no means exclusively about women’s issues. Even when I’m not scheduled to work, I sometimes find myself here just because.

Being a student at Princeton, female or male, is stressful. The Women’s Center is here for you, whoever you are, and whatever you need. We hope you drop by.

Alcohol Coalition Committee (ACC)

Since its formation in 2007, the Princeton University Alcohol Coalition Committee (ACC) has been studying the complex and serious issue of high-risk drinking—a problem not unique to this campus. Princeton has distinguished itself as a national model in this endeavor through the creation of a coalition that starts with students, includes faculty and staff, and addresses other major community stakeholders.

In the fall of 2007, the Healthier Princeton Advisory Board tasked a core group sponsored by Health Promotions with the development of a strategic plan. The core group recommended the formation of the ACC, and the strategic planning process began in December 2007, sponsored by the Office of the Vice President for Campus Life. A comprehensive strategic plan was presented to the advisory board in the spring of 2008, and in September 2008 the ACC began to implement the plan.

Since its inception, the ACC has implemented a number of workshops, summits, working groups, and other initiatives that have focused on high-risk drinking, and effecting campus health and culture in a positive way.  Recent ACC activity includes multiple communications efforts, and the use of mobile technology to assist students in helping others in situations when alcohol might be involved.

Raising awareness of incoming students
In an effort to continue to raise awareness about the ACC, its charge, and the definition of high-risk drinking, the ACC began Streetwise, an interactive, Princeton-specific web-based tool designed to educate incoming students about healthy habits around alcohol, Princeton’s policies related to alcohol, and when students are most vulnerable to high-risk drinking. This resource also provides students a comprehensive overview of the Princeton social scene and previews several attractive alcohol-free spaces on campus available to students for studying or socializing. For the Class of 2016, Streetwise was promoted, in part, through the new Path to Princeton website.

Raising Awareness of all Princeton Students
Various initiatives to raise awareness of the ACC among the entire student body were introduced in the past year, including student-only meetings and free t-shirts.

In addition, the ACC’s Just the Facts booklet, produced in collaboration with the Office of the Dean of Undergraduate Students, University Health Services, and Public Safety, is distributed every fall to all freshmen. It is also more widely available and accessible to other students, including being posted on the ACC website.  Residential College Advisers distribute the booklet to all incoming freshmen during their Orientation-week discussion, “Alcohol and the Princeton Social Scene”.

In fall 2012, the ACC launched StandBy, a mobile site that assists students in helping themselves or others in situations when alcohol might be a factor.

University Health Services and other alcohol-related resources on campus

University Health Services (UHS) has an Alcohol and Other Drugs Treatment Team – comprised of physicians, psychotherapists, and nurse practitioners – which serves students who wish to better understand their social drinking, address their alcohol or other drug dependency, deal more effectively with peer pressure to use alcohol, or discuss concerns about friends, roommates or family members. Team members provide assessment, short-term individual counseling, referral to private therapists, treatment programs and groups, and consultation to University staff and faculty members.

UHS offers a wealth of alcohol-related information and resources.  One resource that was implemented in the past several years is BASICS – Brief Alcohol Screening and Intervention for College Students.   BASICS is an educational program, facilitated by Health Promotion and Wellness Services (HPW), designed to assist students in exploring drinking behaviors in a non-confrontational way. The program takes a harm reduction approach, to reduce risky behavior and the potential harmful consequences of excessive alcohol use.

As an RCA, one my main goals is to redeem “everyday” mental health. Princeton can be a stressful, trying place, a place where even those of us with the strongest and most developed coping skills can be pushed to the breaking point.  With that in mind, my goal is to inculcate a spirit of self-reflection and mindfulness in my zees.  That desire can be satisfied in a variety of ways.  It could take the form of encouraging my zees to go to bed an hour earlier instead of watching “Workaholics,” so that come Wednesday afternoon they aren’t zombies with the dire need to nap through their econ precept.  It could also be getting them to watch an episode when you’re certain they need to decompress a little.  It could be a strategy session with a zee who’s feeling a little sluggish after four months of Dining Hall food, no visits to the gym, and a stack of reading that needs to be annotated.  But more than likely, it comes in the form of all of the mundane, but nevertheless, intimate conversations in which you get to know your zees as people with hopes, fears, and aspirations.  It is this type of interaction that RCAs live for, where we get to use our training to make sure that our zees make the most of their time here.

Ultimately, it is our goal to have you, our zees, answer these self-questions long after we’ve all graduated.  We want to make sure that you are thoughtful about yourselves.  We want you to begin to think about who you are and who you want to become, to make reflection part of that internal voice that we’re constantly in conversation with: “Am I being true to myself?”  “Am I choosing to be the best me possible?”  “What is the best me?”  These questions do not have definitive answers, and in some ways, that’s the point.  They force us to examine our implicit assumptions, our fears, our hopes, our dreams, which isn’t easy or comfortable for anyone.  Consider us your resource when these questions seem particularly daunting.  We can compare notes about that technique for positive thinking that gave us such great results or the new coping skill we’ve been trying out.  Because what we really want to do is talk to you, know you, and help you be the best “you” possible. The goal of the RCA is to make sure you have all the resources you need at your disposal, for all of the various facets of “you”.  The self, just as its component parts, is not a dichotomous variable, a card to be flipped from “incomplete” or “complete.”  It is a process, an integrative way of thinking, which draws on all of our failures and successes to make a resonant, sonorous fusion of mind and body.

I clung to these two images, ice cream with a favorite professor friend, a minimizing sine wave and more stable emotions, all throughout freshman year, especially when I was in the pits (which was often). Getting myself out of those moods was difficult. I didn’t like Princeton at all, no matter how much I tried. Visits to CPS, or the couch of that same professor, were brief but necessary escapes from the impersonality that made me feel, and sometimes still makes me feel, like I don’t belong at this school.
In places where success and admiration are equated with happiness (bad math, if you ask me) it’s hard to find the space to admit those very normal feelings of debility like loneliness, depression, or anxiety, which never quite dissipate and linger in the atmosphere. Weathering through these climates seems impossible when you’re in them, and daunting even if you’re not.

I sometimes cope by reasoning emotional turmoil as a symptom of Princeton (which it may very well be), but the kinds of energy that sort of thinking—often necessary—demands can be very draining. It also risks a distraction from much more immediate concerns that make themselves felt in urgent and complicated ways. For me, it is often easier to criticize than to dwell in a bad day, talk about feeling down, or be there for a friend or someone I can tell is not feeling too great.
This isn’t to say that all time must be spent talking about feelings (sometimes the only way out of them is to get distracted by something else, in fact!). But it is a roundabout way of saying that mental health begins by realizing that any notion of health involves a certain amount of not-feeling-quite-healthy, and that things here sometimes sucks—despite everyone’s best efforts.

A unexpected learning experience at Princeton has been figuring out how to navigate my own emotions—especially the unpleasant variety—and understanding that it’s okay to ask for help, whether from staff, faculty, or friends. An even bigger surprise has been the moments of empathy (usually where and when I least expect it) in which I realize I’m not the only one struggling.
At Princeton, things are so future-oriented that present worries might seem insignificant (though they never feel that way) when they are actually what can affect us the most. It’s also worth pausing and looking back every once in awhile, if only as a reminder that bad moods will subside or a way to bookend blog posts.
Like most things that professor has told me, the sine wave turned out to be true—though my emotional graph has always been more Richter scale than parabolic.

Okay, so maybe this seems like a terrible message for Mental Health Week. And if that were all I had to say, it would be. But let me back up. My last semester at Princeton is really busy, I would even go as far as to say that it’s overwhelming a lot of the time. But even when it is overwhelming, it is always manageable. The reason for this is that I’m not going through it alone.

I often reflect back on my freshman year, which was for me, as it is for many, a difficult transition. There were a lot of contributions – I took a difficult combination of courses, I couldn’t manage my time well, and I wasn’t used to the high expectations of Princeton. But perhaps the principal reason I went through all that pain is because I didn’t talk about what I was going through with anyone. The days when I came home with horrible grades, the days when I was a zombie in class because I had barely slept, the nights when I couldn’t fall asleep because I was so stressed – I simply could not find the voice to talk about any of these things.

Of course, I had conversations with people about being busy – over Frist late meal, comparing how little sleep we got or how many midterms we had in one week, or swapping stories about procrastination. But this wasn’t real talking. Real conversations are the ones where you really unpack what is going on in your life – the good as well as the bad – to a listening ear, who isn’t just waiting for their turn to top your story with their own anecdote.

I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the late meal conversations. They’re therapeutic in their own way, and they often serve to remind us not to take ourselves too seriously or at least that Princeton is hard for all of us. But they are only helpful when they are supplemented with the real conversations: the ones where we talk about what’s going on at home, or with our friends or significant others, the conversations where we talk about our classes, not just complain about them. These conversations help us understand why we feel what we feel. They remind us of the great people in our lives or why we chose our major, even when we are stressed with its class work.

These conversations are not only to be had with our friends – but also with the tutors and consultants of the McGraw Center, Peer Health Advisors, CPS, our professors, our preceptors, our coaches, our RCAs, Office of Religious Life… the list goes on. There are so many people who are here on campus who can be a listening ear for our thoughts on our classes, our relationships, our hopes, our dreams, and our uncertainties. Simply allowing yourself to honestly give voice to what’s on your mind is often half the battle: and Princeton gives us so many spaces for us work through all of life’s challenges, big and small.

I was so unhappy my freshman year I almost transferred. I created a password on the Common App and thought about all the other places I thought I would be happier. And I didn’t tell anyone – I just felt too ashamed. This year I have had more than one consultation at McGraw where I saw my consultee sitting across from me, clearly in a situation comparable to my freshman year. When I see this, I always bring up that I almost transferred freshman year. More often than not, the consultee admits to having similar thoughts, and what’s more important, that they haven’t voiced this to anyone. I see the relief on their face when they see that they are not the only one who has had this experience.

Students who go through difficult times without talking it through with someone go through the experience alone. There are several problems with this. Obviously there is a lack of support, since nobody knows what’s going on, but there’s more to it than that. Not talking to someone also means that the assumptions you will inevitably draw from your experience – whether about your intelligence or your abilities or your personality – all of these conclusions go unexamined. It is these conclusions, which are more often than not wrong, that contribute to a negative self-image. A negative self-image is a very difficult thing to shatter, especially if you are not talking to someone. And it is often this very act of challenging our assumptions we have made about ourselves that is key to working through difficult experiences.

As Princeton gets more challenging, we don’t just adapt by learning to read faster or suddenly not procrastinating anymore. We must learn to get support. We must learn to be interdependent as well as independent. If you’re not comfortable telling your friends about your difficulties in a class, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t talk about them – it means you find someone else to talk to. For me, Mental Health Week isn’t about solving all my problems. It’s about accepting that I will be overwhelmed a lot, and instead of dwelling on that, finding the support I need to work through it. It’s not about trying to prevent difficult times, but ensuring that I have the support I need if and when they do occur. It’s about finding the space to talk honestly – and not only about what stresses me out and makes me unhappy, but also the things that make me happy and that I’m proud of. Because a big part of combating the inevitable bad is remembering all the good that surrounds us too.

So I would encourage all of you to find that space to voice what’s really going on – we all have something. The behemoth to-do lists aren’t going away, but our minds can at least be a bit more at rest as we work through them.

Sign up to talk with a McGraw Learning Consultant here.

If you’ve taken time away from Princeton and have returned, consider the Returning to Princeton Discussion Group.

Learn strategies for managing JP and Thesis Work.

Strategies for overcoming procrastination, preparing for exams, and mastering other Princeton demands.

“Doubt is my boon companion, the faithful St. Bernard ever at my side.”—Philip Lopate from “The Essay, an Exercise in Doubt”

I circled outside the USG office for a good five minutes before stepping inside for my photo session with Steven Rosenfield. I was beginning to second-guess my decision to sign up for this “What I Be” Project (WIB). Not only was the English major side of me cringing at this blatant misappropriation of the verb “to be,” but I was also beginning to wonder whether my “insecurity,” whatever it turned out to be at the end of the forty-minute photo shoot, was “good enough.” Earlier that afternoon, the first previews of the “What I Be” Project were already starting to appear on my newsfeed and many were strikingly serious—suicide, eating disorders, depression. What insecurity in my life could be of such great magnitude, of such severe degree? I had been lucky, so far—no terribly tragic or traumatic childhood woes, other than the now relatively normal split-up parent situation, and a relatively unscathed and sheltered adolescence. Even the college years have proven to be relatively mild in the emotional zone. Whatever insecurity I might be feeling then, or now, appeared small, tiny and insignificant in comparison to these brave students who had come forward frankly and honestly to battle publicly with their greatest demons.
And then I thought, what a shocking thing to think! Why should I be worried that my greatest insecurity, my greatest flaw, my greatest defect, is not “up to par?” Why should I compare apples to oranges? And yet, the question of wondering whether one is “up to snuff” is an un-shockingly Princeton thing to think, even when it comes to thinking about your greatest fears and anxieties.

But what I’ve recognized from seeing my peers embody their strengths and weaknesses during this WIB project is that an insecurity is an insecurity, no matter how great, no matter how small.

It is not easy to reveal the deepest and darkest sides of your self, especially to a stranger, and a vast public stretching beyond Princeton’s borders into the digital world, and so I applaud their bravery. It helped me to recognize my greatest anxiety—doubt, itself. It is a small insecurity, but an ever-present anxiety. Doubt is definitely not unique to me, or Princeton. Yet we all experience it in our own way. The waterworks spouted as I realized this in my conversation with Rosenfield.

I doubt myself…constantly.
I doubt whether I’ll be able to pass my QR requirement.
I doubt my ability to succeed beyond Princeton. (Will I ever get a job?)
I doubt whether I hit that right note.
I doubt whether I took that right step.
I doubt my dream of becoming a writer.
I doubt my daydreams of becoming a choreographer.
I doubt that I’ll ever fall in love.
I doubt whether God really hears me.
I doubt whether my mistakes are ever forgivable.

The list of doubts and second-guesses could go on and on. And my doubt comes down to one thing—the inability to trust myself, and that unknown cosmos out there that might be running on chaos, or divine intervention.

I doubt because I can’t trust.

It is this inability to trust myself, my world, my Princeton, my intellect, my education, my mind, my confidence, my body, my heart, my past, my present, and my future, that causes me to always seek out reassurance. I am always looking for reassurance, for that metaphorical kiss on the forehead and that gold star on my self-worth. I thrive on that kind of external affirmation. In a strange and convoluted way, I trust this doubt-born reassurance more than anything else.

But in the end, no amount of “patting on the back,” no amount of “As,” no amount of compliments from my professors, my friends, or my parents, not even the conferral of a Princeton degree, will ever fill this hunger to be self-assured. As I’ve learned by watching my beautiful peers speak, write, and pose honestly for the WIB’s project on Facebook, the only person who can reassure you, is you. You can be your greatest strength, in the face of your greatest insecurity.

Philip Lopate writes, “Strangely enough, doubt need not impede action. If you really become friends with your doubt, you can go ahead and take risks, knowing you will be questioning yourself at every turn, no matter what.”
I don’t think it’s possible to “friend” Doubt on Facebook, so I’m going to deviate from Lopate’s advice slightly. Doubt has been “my boon companion, the faithful St. Bernard ever at my side.” However, I think Doubt and I have become overly friendly. We’ve gotten to know each other too well, and I think it’s time to “de-friend.”

I’ll embrace my doubt by not trusting it over the confidence that I know lies within me. And I’ll reinforce that by saying this: “Don’t reassure me. I’ll reassure myself.”

For more reflections on doubt I highly recommend reading Philip Lopate’s “The Essay, an Exercise in Doubt” in full. His honesty helped me tremendously in writing this post.

When I came to Princeton the effects of my background started hitting me slowly and ceaselessly, to the point that by the end of the year, all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in my bed where I could hide from the attacks. “Clinical depression” was the official diagnosis that validated the discomfort I started to acknowledge my freshman spring: I did not fit in at all. Even though my test scores said otherwise, I didn’t feel competitive enough for the sciences at Princeton, nor did I feel intellectual enough for my humanities courses, not much of a leader to successfully take up any leadership position, nor black enough to fit into the black community, nor “moral” enough to fit into any religious community and the list goes on and on and on. In other words, my unique background and personality kept me from seeing the value in myself.

Not until the summer before my sophomore year, when I started reading the bible did I start seeing my background in a more positive light. I drew closer to Christ because for the first time in a while, I felt that my background, although important, did not define who I was and who I was going to be. As Christ loved and accepted people from all cultures, in him I found exactly what I was looking for: to belong to something that is bigger than myself. Because my background was so unique, I did not find at Princeton people that were exactly like me. But because I saw all these different groups with people who seemed very similar, I felt out-of-place and “attacked” for being so different from everyone else.

Thankfully, God really used my sophomore year to allow me to see how these issues affect every aspect of my life (my schoolwork, friendships, social life, etc.). I was particularly fortunate to have worked with an amazing CPS therapist who really tried to understand my complex identity. I’ve also been a participant of a CPS group for first-generation/low-income students on campus. Since my freshman year, I have gotten a lot better, but as the old French saying “la plus ça change, la plus c’est la même chose.” I still face the same mini-identity crises, bouts of depression and loneliness from time to time. I still feel out-of-place on campus but at the end of every episode, I think of all the ways God has blessed me with a supportive family, understanding friends, and a university with so many (free) resources.

If you are having a hard time on campus and like me, you think it’s related to your background, don’t hesitate to take advantage of CPS, peer advisors, the Carl A. Field’s Center, among other resources.

To hear more about my experiences, feel free to email me at you.have.god@gmail.com

The Street was a seductive drug, the perfect medication for someone who refused to acknowledge their need for help. Alcohol made me feel numb, dancing allowed me to exhaust myself further, hooking up fed me self-worth, and the nasty hangovers and embarrassing stories provided the sense of camaraderie with my friends in clubs I felt economically barred from.

Even now I feel some shame in all of this. My rational mind saw all of this as a lack of discipline, a gross inadequacy. I was never good enough for myself, and I was hell-bent on destroying myself in the process of reaching that pedestal I had placed just beyond my own reach. As I learned and finally accepted (no small feat), anger turned inwards is depression. I was wrathful.

We seem to more or less know our physical limits, and treat them with due respect. Physical injuries are rarely ignored, and are treated to the best of our means. The mind seems somehow different, a punching bag subjected to the worst neglect. My own neglect culminated in a suicide attempt on March 26, 2012. It was the last day of my senior spring break, and for some reason all those horrible things I felt aligned in one overpowering need to never feel them again. This past weekend, I celebrated my 23rd birthday, alive and, most importantly, better. Over the course of my 9 month leave of absence from Princeton, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety. A stay in a dual-diagnosis inpatient program, completing a partial-hospitalization outpatient program, regular pharmacological and psychological therapies, and a lot of introspection and mental work have transformed me. I recognize my privileged access to these therapies through my parents’ insurance, but I want to emphasize the good that even just having the time to rethink myself did for me.

I am grateful for this gift of a second chance. I want to share this gift with all you here at Princeton that might be feeling the things I felt, or refusing to acknowledge your symptoms as I did. There is help, and there is hope. Go see someone at McCosh, talk to someone in your college office (shout out to Matt Frawley and Dean Lestition), or even take a year off if that’s what you need to do to be healthy. A Princeton diploma is small recompense for being unhappy or depressed. A mental illness is treatable, just as any illness. There is no shame in recognizing your illness and seeking treatment. You are all incredible people, and I look forward to spending one last semester here with all of you.

What happens if you feel you can’t meet your academic obligations because something is interfering with your work?  It may be an illness that enervates you, a family situation that is distracting, or just a sense of being overwhelmed (or de-motivated) by circumstances.  In all such cases, freshmen and sophomores should make an appointment to see their director of studies as soon as possible; upperclassmen should contact their residential college dean (if they are not immediately available, write an email to let them know what’s going on).  In most cases, you’ll want to explain the details of your situation and the ways that it is affecting your academic well-being.   Your dean or director of studies will usually ask about classes that you may have missed or work that is due.  She or he may ask you if you’ve already spoken to your professors directly.  If not, and this is totally understandable given the private nature of things, your dean  or director of studies will ask if it’s OK to contact your professors  in order to help make arrangements, so that you can catch up.  If this happens during term-time, and depending upon circumstances, the dean or director of studies will write to professors to let them know that we are aware of a situation (usually described in general terms, such as health or personal issue) and propose some kind of academic adjustment.  Once a professor replies, we get in touch with you about what to do next:  it may mean that you have to follow up with the professor directly about extending an assignment deadline or moving a test date.  We do what we can to facilitate the process and to assure that all students are treated fairly.  (During the final exam period, the process is a bit more complicated because it may involve the Deputy Registrar, but your first point of contact should still be your residential college dean or director of studies.)

Depending on what you tell us, if we feel that you would benefit from the Counseling and Psychological Services that Princeton provides to all students, or the support provided by the Office of Disability Services, we will refer you to the director of student life of your residential college.  She or he is in the best position to help you access further resources, so that you can develop strategies to help you cope with the stresses of academic work at Princeton.  It is important to know that all of the conversations that you have with college staff — a dean, director of studies, or director of student life — are completely confidential, and that they will not reveal details to professors in order to make academic adjustments.   Professors know that college office staff are bound by very strict privacy rules, and they respect the fact that we are in a position to determine the severity of a crisis, mental health or otherwise.

So, please don’t hesitate to contact your college office staff if you think you need adjustments to your workload, so that you can regain (or keep!) your mental health. We understand how stressful your life can get at Princeton, and we want to assist you in every way. Remember, we’re here if you need us.

1. Expect that you will go through some sort of cultural adjustment process- sometimes called culture shock – in which you will have a variety of feelings ranging from excitement, anxiety, loneliness, homesickness, confusion, anger, sadness, and depression.  This can last anywhere from a few weeks to several months or a year.
2. Be curious and open-minded.  Ask questions.  Observe and learn how things are done here.  Compare and contrast as to how things differ from back home.  Try to avoid judging differences as good or bad – but, rather just different. You don’t have to give up your values in order to respect those of others.
3. Find a cultural ally you can talk to about what you are going through.  It may be an American who has studied abroad or a veteran international student – someone who can help you better understand local behavior and customs.  You may find allies by joining ISAP, DICAB, or another internationally – minded organization.  Perhaps you’ll connect at Tea & Talk or Coffee and Chat, international discussion groups sponsored by the Davis International Center.
4. Build relationships with a variety of people – Americans and international students.  Although it is helpful to have friends from your native country – avoid living in a cultural cocoon filled with only people from your country who speak your language.  This may make your adjustment even harder.
5. Get involved – join a club, a dance group, a discussion group. Take initiative to make new friends – don’t wait for them to come to you – make the first move.  Forgive yourself if you make mistakes – everybody does.  Have a sense of humor.
6. All work and no play makes for a dull boy (and girl).  Find balance in your life – a lesson that will serve you well for a lifetime and make you happier and more productive.  Take care of yourself – eat well, sleep, exercise, and have fun.
7. Build relationships – Oh, did I already say that?  It’s worth saying again.  Students who feel well-adjusted have usually developed a strong web of support – friends they can depend on and who can depend on them.
8. Need Help?  Ask for it.  There are many resources on campus to help with adjustment.   The Davis International Center  www.princeton.edu/intlctr has a variety of programs and services designed especially for international students.  Students who get stuck in the process with profound feelings of sadness or depression have found support and relief from Counseling Services in the McCosh Health Center.

The culture shock process is not all bad.  It can enrich you, make you more focused and curious, and give you motivation to learn more about yourself and others.   It can encourage you to be more flexible as you look for new ways of thinking and acting. With time and some strategic effort, you will adjust and become bi-cultural – enabling you to move smoothly among different cultures and countries.

Jackie Leighton, Director
Davis International Center
www.princeton.edu/intlctr