The Aki Way

The future of The Lawrence looms uncertain. The internet age has decimated local print media. Political polarization has made disagreements and debates hostile. The paper, like many on-campus publications, has struggled to maintain a consistent writing base in the post-Covid era. At a moment when the paper’s future hangs in the balance, the editors of The Lawrence have struggled to maintain The Lawrence, as both a paper and an institution on campus, while confronting the existential challenges for student journalism in the 21st century. 

Overcoming these challenges seems insurmountable, especially when the schedule of a weekly publication leaves little time to thoughtfully reflect on our long-term performance.  Determination keeps The Lawrence alive. We acknowledge that students shred copies for the Trashion Show without reading a single word, faculty advisors critique our most controversial stances, and most students seem unaware of our efforts. In the face of seemingly insurmountable difficulties, we wail, “How will we go on?” 

Then: Aki Li steps in with a Frixion pen and her ineffable sense of discipline. She reminds us of our true reward for the many hours we spend in the Pop basement. 

Many of us knew Li before she was Editor-In-Chief. Like most Board members, Li began as a humble writer. Now our leader, Li embodies not just the core value of the 144th Board—care, for our readers, our writers, and each other—but the key to persevering: commitment to the grind, however tiring. 

While office hours are routinely filled with laughter, Li is always there to playfully yet firmly remind us of the job at hand. She likewise balances levity and leadership in her discussions with the administration and our faculty advisors, making sure to take their feedback into account while fighting to keep The Lawrence an outlet for authentic student expression. Direction, to her, is about more than rule-following: it is respect for the paper’s goals and the ways that respect can be embodied. As we cultivate that respect, we find the strength to confront the challenges of tomorrow. 

Our discipline, inspired by Li’s example, pays off in surprising ways. From Editorials urging Lawrentians to vote to fierce campaigns for gender equity in the House System, we regularly challenge deep-set practices on a campus where students may slip into apathy about the world around them under the weight of their courseload. Our words have sparked conversations with the offices of College Counseling, the Dean of Students, and the Dean of Academics. Alumni repeatedly engage with the paper, offering their own perspectives rooted in the historical versions of Lawrenceville they inhabited. 

Proof of this legacy is reflected in the walls of our office, which are covered with quotes and clippings from long-gone editors. They remind us that we’re standing on the shoulders of over a thousand editors who collectively built something orders of magnitude larger than themselves or their four years here. In our storied legacy we find our purpose. We have a responsibility to pass on this legacy, telling the story that’s uniquely Lawrenceville and uniquely Lawrence.

Moments in the office—even and especially the banal ones—are highlights of our Lawrenceville careers. The people we meet are even more important. While foraging for a Features interview or News scoop, we have met people and uncovered stories we otherwise never would have heard before. Our shared conviction to keep The Lawrence a bulwark of student voice—to use writing to reveal, connect, and advocate—brought us together, but the ordinary moments we share have formed a community. Seeing the excitement of a freshman writer seeing their work in print, or watching a seasoned writer take on a complex topic, and triumph, reminds us of the people that give our journalism purpose. Like Aki, in grounding ourselves in the people and stories that inspire us, we muster the determination to return to a dingy base in Pop Hall, called Pop 027, and resume the ceaseless struggle of maintaining a weekly newspaper. 

To all those who have shaped our experience—Board members, students, faculty, and alumni alike—thank you.