The Futility of the Closed Weekend

          I dreaded the Wellness Workshop. Freezing, I waited for the car to heat up before I begrudgingly drove to campus, and sincerely asked myself what 45 minutes spent coloring would do for my so-called wellness. My dread was an autopilot response: my knee-jerk reaction to all things “fundatory.”

          I suspect the rest of campus, treading around unengaged, shares the same discontent during closed weekends. Students painstakingly adorned themselves in layers of winter clothes and trek to the Kirby Arts Center while grumbling without pause. Yet what more can one reasonably expect from the adolescent mind? Perhaps even more so than attending on-campus social events like dances or football games. During these closed weekends, boarders could rattle off a long list of activities more preferable than spending a precious Saturday morning back on campus. 

          Lawrentians can imagine the picturesque ’80s campus air that captures the epitome of socialization and noticeable spirit at campus events. Lively club meetings, prolific publications, sports games filled with rambunctious teenagers—nobody felt  the need to leave campus. What happened to this Lawrenceville?

Put simply, it’s not the ’80s anymore. The attention we used to devote to each other is now siphoned toward social media algorithms. While limited transportation tied previous generations of Lawrentians to campus, Uber rides and cheap flights carry today’s students to and from cities like New York City and Princeton with remarkable ease. This accessibility, while convenient, endangers the essence of boarding school life. 

          While frequently dreaded, Lawrenceville’s closed weekend policy preserves the intentional community-building that distinguishes boarding schools from their day-school counterparts. While students are pinned down to campus, closed weekends offer the opportunity for Lawrentians to find enriched perspectives and close bonds, if only they choose to embrace them.

          Tying students to a boarding school campus on the weekends certainly has its downfalls. Boarding school students commit to spending many hours on campus at the cost of out-of-school extracurriculars from back home. Think of global organizations, national competitions, internships, or jobs—such opportunities, although in easy reach for students at day schools, are inaccessible to those bound by the Lawrenceville bubble. However, this perspective overlooks the carefully curated ecosystem of opportunities available within our gates. From academic competitions to artistic pursuits, boarding schools like Lawrenceville concentrate resources and experiences that day students might spend hours pursuing across dispersed locations, wasting precious time in commute and miscellaneous bookkeeping. Moreover, a culture reliant on unrestricted weekend departures risks creating an inequitable environment. While some students might readily afford regular rideshare services or maintain expensive off-campus activities, others cannot. This disparity can foster a two-tiered social structure that Lawrenceville, at least administratively, actively works to prevent.

          Rather than dismantling closed weekends, Lawrenceville—and more importantly, Lawrentians themselves—should focus on enriching on-campus life while thoughtfully expanding local community engagement through structured programs. This approach preserves the boarding school ethos while preparing students for meaningful societal contribution.

          Beyond the structural advantages of closed weekends lies a more nuanced benefit: The creation of shared experiences that define the Lawrenceville community. While students may initially resist mandatory events—whether it's a Friday night documentary screening or a weekend football game—these shared moments often yield unexpected value. 

          I went to my coloring Wellness Workshop, skeptical and resigned. Now, however, I find myself printing out black-and-white outlines in the Bunn Library to enjoy some phone-free coloring among friends. 

          True community building requires more than physical presence, demanding genuine engagement from participants. While closed weekends might feel restrictive, they provide the framework for students to fully immerse themselves in the Lawrenceville experience, creating memories and connections that can define our time here.
- CS, JZ

This editorial represents the majority view of The Lawrence CXLIV.