Letter to the Editor

A Response to "Reimagining Lawrenceville's Work Ethic" published October 9, 2023

In the Editorial published on October 9, 2023, the Board argued that it is not technically academic rigor–“a permanent state of busyness…an endless stream of classes, sports, and clubs”—which demands students to wear themselves out, but Lawrenceville’s “toxic work culture”—a shadowy, amorphous, lurking variable. The editorial touched on the effects of this work culture, intimately familiar to most Lawrentians, but lacked a description of its root causes— without which, meaningful changes to the student experience will remain in the realm of wishful thinking. The fact that such an opinion received a majority vote of agreement from the Board is unsurprising, as there was no argument presented that Lawrentians would find any reason to disagree with, or even think twice about. The real contributors to a harmful school culture can and should be debated across campus; acknowledging the unflattering truth that our academic “grindsets” are partially fueled by ego, not passion, is a crucial first step to finding healthier sources of motivation. 

In my opinion, what makes Lawrentians “mentally drained” and striving to assert “dedication to academics and extracurriculars” is more than just having an inherently strong work ethic, as perpetuated by self-selecting waves of applicants and acceptees, aspirants and alumni. I agree with the editorial when it states that Lawrentians are “equally driven students” who seek to challenge themselves, but it would be incomplete to claim we resist balanced lifestyles solely because of a love of learning: classes’ reputations, not just their content, affect our decisions on scheduling day. What too often goes unspoken and un-admonished is the superiority complex some adopt while taking certain Honors classes, something that shouldn’t be normalized by a Lawrenceville seeking to create a healthier school culture together. Rigor is tied etymologically to stiffness and decay; instead, we should pedestalize learning that is vigorous and energizes us. 

Perhaps we are eager to overwork ourselves–to shine, no matter the cost–because it’s a secure source of validation. Maybe we’re too scared to admit that the Lawrentian ego feeds on shiny markers of success—a curated Linkedin profile or an Instagram feed—and that we can’t get enough of them. Pretentiousness, coupled with an eagerness to judge quickly and decisively, wreaks havoc on our relationships with our peers and ourselves. It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s nevertheless a barrier, like shyness or unfamiliarity, that gives us pause before sitting with someone new at lunch. This is toxic work culture: an inability to detach our self-worth from the yardstick of three-letter acronyms. The judgment of our peers has become internalized. 

In fact, The Lawrence may unwittingly encourage such a culture, despite its leadership’s best intentions. The fact remains that those who write for this paper are a self-selecting subset of Lawrentians—as stated in the Editorial published on February 10, 2023, most Lawrence writers produce work because “their future with the paper is already clear.” Of course, the Lawrence writership is one example of students only engaging with  organizations  to pursue a leadership position. The vast majority of Lawrentians will never submit to this publication, so whose voices does it really broadcast? The only public space where students can broadcast their opinions to the student body at large, The Lawrence has the power to dismantle a toxic work culture by encouraging difficult conversations. In my opinion, this can only occur from the bottom up, with writers who are determined to shape this culture themselves.