Princeton admitted approximately 70 women as transfer students to the Class of 1973 (“It Put Steel in My Spine,” June issue). Yes, there were women in the classes of 1974 and 1975, but the transfer women have a different story.
The “first” women had formed strong bonds, as a necessary and understandable survival mechanism. That was a barrier. For the transferees, Princeton admitted us and then abandoned us. We received no orientation, no mentoring, no guide to campus life. Some transferring women were in some way familiar with the school. Others found community through their chosen major, such as architecture.
Many of us, however, were unprepared to navigate the institution. I transferred from the University of Chicago. Academically, I was a fit. Culturally, I was clueless. The concept of an “eating club” was alien. I had no idea what campus organizations existed.
Compounding this experience, I faced vicious and lasting antisemitism. As I now know, many individuals and marginalized groups began their battles for acceptance around this time. Jim DiOrio ’73 calls us the Tipping Point Class. It is a concise metaphor for “old” Princeton beginning its journey to modern Princeton.
I had friends, but I never had community. I felt community with my class for the first time at my 50th reunion. I speak only for myself. Each transfer woman has her own story. The University now proudly touts the accomplishments of the Princeton transfer students. It is heartening to see that the University has evolved in this area as well.