From the Editor

There was no long goodbye when my parents dropped me off at college.

They helped me unpack, met my roommate and her parents, and then ... “See you at Thanksgiving!” I shouted as they left.

That evening, there was a celebration for the freshman class. As cheerleaders cheered, the marching band appeared, playing a fight song, on a stage that emerged from the floor. It was wonderful and exciting — a new life. Then my new roommate tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, aren’t those your parents?” she asked, pointing at two adults standing on the nearly empty balcony. Indeed they were. They saw me in the crowd and waved. I did not wave back.

Though they found the separation difficult, my parents probably had it easy. We spoke only once a week, keeping it short to avoid a big phone bill, so they never heard the details of my agonies: the initial homesickness, the fear of failure, the end of a brief romance. By the time Thanksgiving arrived, those things had passed.

Today’s families are not as lucky. As Lisa Belkin ’82 — the longtime parenting columnist for The New York Times, now at The Huffington Post — writes (see page 20), technology means never having to say goodbye. Belkin visited Princeton on freshman move-in day; her account shows how much has changed — and also how much in the parent-child bond always will stay the same.

My 13-year-old daughter will attend sleepaway camp for the first time this summer. We’ve heard from the camp director: no texting, no emails, no cell phones. Our daughter thinks she will survive quite nicely without the sage advice we proffer daily. Her parents? If there’s a celebration for the new campers, we’ll be there.