Even though she's nearly sixty miles away, Mama insinuates herself into my thoughts. Be cautious, never do anything to stand out. You must take extra care working at that all-male institution. So, I send money home instead.Īs I duck under a crenellated tower, I moderate my pace so I won't be breathless when I arrive. On the weekends, I wish I could return to the energy of New York, but the sixty cents for a train ticket is outside our family's budget. It's been five years since I left our New York City apartment for this sleepy New Jersey college town, and the quiet is still unnerving. By the time I pass Blair Arch, my stride is quick but acceptable for a lady. I know I must do nothing to draw any kind of extra attention. I release the fabric and slow down as I weave through Princeton's leafy Gothic landscape, designed to look like Cambridge and Oxford. But just as I gather the heavy material, I hear Mama's voice: Belle, be a lady at all times. I long to break into a sprint, my voluminous skirts lifted, my legs flying along the Princeton University pathways. The Old North bell tolls the hour, and I realize that I'll be late.
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