he standard criticism of our generation is that we are politically apathetic and socially dispassionate. Complacency and self-centeredness have replaced idealism and vision – the current college student is more attuned to Wall Street than the March on Washington.

Certainly, political activism among students is not what it once was. But it is not dead either. As the 2000 presidential campaign rolls around, many on campus have decided to put their studying on hold, cut back a little on late-night partying and become involved in the political process. University senior Rob Hill is such a person.

Every Friday and Saturday, Rob makes the hour-and-a-half commute to West Orange to volunteer at Bill Bradley's national campaign headquarters. Why does he decide to dedicate such a large portion of his time to a political contest? What exactly does he do? I was intrigued, so I followed him to Bradley's headquarters one Saturday afternoon.

We're riding in his car on the way to West Orange. I ask what made him decide to become involved in politics and volunteer for Bradley. He answers my question with a question: "Did you know that fall break was originally intended to allow students to help out with political campaigns?"

Rob spent last semester studying in Italy. While he was abroad he began to develop a deeper interest in American electoral politics. "I was tired of being apathetic," he explains.

Bradley had always been somewhat of a role model for Rob, and when he learned of Bradley's decision to run, Rob made a decision of his own to become involved in the 2000 Presidential race.

We turn off of Interstate 280 at the West Orange exit. Immediately, we're regaled by a bright red, white and blue sign: "Home of Bill Bradley National Campaign Headquarters." We are in soccer-mom country. Tidy suburban look-alike houses sport trend y Halloween decorations as pairs of middle-aged joggers amble by.

The Bradley Campaign Hot Zone is located in a two-story office building. Blink and you'd miss it. One of the doors still sports a "Ronald Strulowitz Insurance Agency" sign.

We park across the street at Grande Maison catering and enter the building. Frankly, I'm feeling a little underwhelmed. I'm expecting more of a "Primary Colors" experience – loads of ringing telephones, papers scattered everywhere and hundreds of manic volunteers running back and forth. Instead, I feel like I'm at a doctor's office. Everyone is really friendly, if not a bit sleepy.

In the corner, a volunteer is slumped in his chair watching the Ohio State game. "This is the information center," Rob tells me. I peek inside a door and see a bank of televisions broadcasting various political rallies around the country. One man gi ves a halfhearted wave.

We go on to the volunteer area, which is housed next door in a converted Blood Bank building. This is more what I expect – about 15 to 20 high school students are engaged in a variety of tasks, from stuffing envelopes and Xeroxing copies to wor king the phones. Rob is given a stack of papers and a list of numbers to fax them to.

Altogether, there are approximately 120 staff members that come into the national office on a regular basis. Most exhibit a laid-back but enthusiastic attitude. I speak to Clark, a recent college graduate. While in school, he was deeply involved in politics and even managed the campaign for a fellow student who was running for mayor. Clark estimates that he works 72 hours a week for "little pay," but he doesn't seem to mind. "It's a rewarding job that really gives you a good sense of the national po litical scene," he says.

Faxing mission successfully accomplished, Rob spends the next hour researching different political issues that will help Bradley formulate talking points and prepare rebuttals to potential challenges from Al Gore.

At no point in the day do I see any slick Dick Morris pollsters or savvy K-Street consultants. I peek at a half-filled sign-up sheet that reads, "Volunteer for November 14, Madison Square Garden Rally!" A youngish-looking 16-year-old girl brushes by me and signs her name.

I haven't found the war-zone campaign atmosphere that I expected. But I have gotten a much clearer view of how political campaigns work. Is it something I necessarily want to become involved with? Undecided. It's definitely not as sexy as I imagine d – Rob isn't organizing rallies and shuffling supporters onto Iowa-bound buses. But he is conducting research that Bradley might ultimately use in a speech or incorporate into a policy proposal. At the very least, he is now part of the political pro cess. Often, in our fast-paced lives, we forget just how important this sort of participation is.

(Steven Feldstein, a columnist from Bloomington, Ind., is a Wilson School major. He can be reached at feldsten@princeton.edu.)