Ten students enter a classroom, talking and laughing as they take their seats. The energy is electric—until the teacher turns on the projector. Then, the room quiets. Students begin to hide their heads in their arms, suddenly aware of their exhaustion. Many cling to these rare moments of silence, knowing they’ll soon be drawn back into a Harkness discussion. Yet, advisory—the half-hour period where we sit with our school-assigned “friend groups”—really does start with a social rush.
At the beginning of advisory, my fellow advisees and I were not yet disinterested classmates assigned to the same adult. We are actually friends. We cheer our sports victoriesand complain about our interminable assignments. Yet, advisory lessons, which claim to unite unexpected pockets of the student body, always seem to interrupt, not build upon, this camaraderie. I have watched friendly banter and enthusiasm dissolve into apathy as we rush through PowerPoints and YouTube TED Talks mandated by the school just so we can get to the end of the period’s to-do list.
Advisory has failed its central purpose. The more structured the lesson, the more dispassionate and disengaged we become. To further student passion for school life, Advisory should put more emphasis on student-directed togetherness over rapid-fire information sessions.
When your advisor crams complex topics like consent into 25-minute lessons, many students end up asking themselves: “What did we just learn?” having retained very little. We unrealistically expect students to absorb, contextualize, and understand nuanced topics in less than half an hour. As my own advisor admits: “I wish we could chat about this more, but we don’t have the time to go over it.” If we do not understand or even remember the lesson, what’s the point? Instead of overwhelming us for one session, educational content should be sent out to us ahead of time so we can talk about it in Advisory. Just another five to ten minutes per week of skimming a resource—especially one pertinent to the everyday struggles of school life—isn’t too much to ask. That way, we will look forward to advisory to get our questions answered, not leave asking more.
The administration also emphasizes the importance of advisory lunches as a counterpart to Friday’s educational periods. In theory, advisory lunches provide the social bonding that advisory lacks. However, many students view them as another scheduled obligation, eager to escape to unstructured downtime at the library or dorms. Students do not always need this period for consultation, but they do need a break to take on their second class feeling fresh and uplifted. Let’s face it: Fridays are hard to push through. Focusing on fun conversations during Friday advisories prepares us to finish strong and walk into the weekend heads-up.
Much like the rest of Lawrenceville, what matters most about advisory is what every student takes away, not what teachers aim to put forward. I asked my advisory group—along with a prefect who has been attending advisory for four years—about their favorite advisory moments. The consensus? The best Advisory activities encourage conversation, full stop. One example is Rose, Bud, and Thorn. This game has prompted us to talk about what we have been enjoying about Lawrenceville life—or outside of it—and what we are looking forward to. While seeming pointless and trivial they give students a break from structured classroom learning and help us de-stress. They also give students a source of social interaction that’s not strictly academic. Casual activities during advisory time set students up to be more comfortable approaching others for social support.
Advisory is a worthwhile addition to our schedule to help us bond with peers outside of our closest circles. With a tight group of people and an even tighter time window, we must make the most of what we discuss with fellow advisees. Thus, we should be able to share what is most important to us during Friday Advisory. That way, the period will be a place for us to come together and make each others’ days better. After all, isn’t that what advisory is for?