Sinking and Swimming | New Student Reflection

Imagine this: You’ve been an award-winning open-water swimmer your entire life, waking up at ungodly hours every morning to trek down to the beach, repeating the same routine and navigating the waters. You’re comfortable with that—comfortable with being the best—until you receive an invitation to an international competition, where you’ll face talented swimmers just like yourself from all across the globe. While thrilled by the prospect of recognition and acclaim, you hesitate: Is it worth leaving the familiar waters you’ve conquered for a new, unknown ocean where all your efforts might be in vain?

Before arriving at Lawrenceville in September, I was a social butterfly. I had many deep bonds with friends and treasured my social footing amongst teachers and peers. Yet as a new III Former at Lawrenceville, I find myself growing more introverted as my expectations conflict with reality. Lawrenceville is an immensely deep sea with rough waters and intense storms, presenting a new social dynamic and challenging academics. If you can stay afloat by focusing on your self-worth and growth, you will find swimming in Lawrenceville’s waters a rewarding adventure. However, if the sea is too drastically different for you to remember your skill, you risk sinking. New students like myself follow in the paths pre-carved by our peers, simply swimming, not knowing whether we’re moments from drowning. I have found the social culture and work ethic at Lawrenceville perplexing and challenging because the pressure they induce impedes each Lawrentian’s ability to be their own “best swimmer” and enjoy the competition.

As an institution, Lawrenceville emphasizes embracing the diversity of individual backgrounds and experiences. Yet, precisely because every Lawrentian is so unique, socializing and fitting into the social fabric of Lawrenceville is a process riddled with obstacles. Despite sharing fears of what the future holds, social gaffes, or even FOMO, our anxieties compel us to conform to social norms. For example, I sometimes find peers shift their personas between friend groups to appeal to a wider selection of people, even being led to say and do things that conflict with their morals. Despite choosing Lawrenceville for the diverse student body and exposure to global perspectives, many Lawrentians often fall back on social cliques based on similar backgrounds or opinions—often making those same groups seem exclusive and fortified. For new students, like me, who struggle with finding a stable social-support network and therefore constantly seek to make friends, we find that being socially successful may require sacrificing our authenticity. 

This social behavior also spills into my extracurricular life; I imagined my afternoons and weekends bonding and collaborating with like-minded peers, but exploring club culture at Lawrenceville has disrupted these hopes. A few extracurricular leaders construct their clubs around niche individual interests—sometimes to build passion projects or attend competitions—rather than catering to the common goals and collective input of the general student body. Hyperfocused clubs risk excluding possibly interested students, while incentizing club participation for superficial reasons, rather than finding community. When compounded with fears that students must get involved in the “right” extracurriculars for college, our club culture distracts us from investing in the opportunities that fulfill us and help us enjoy the Lawrenceville experience instead—what we all vowed to do when we first arrived here. Clubs and extracurricular circles should gather or cooperate for the sake of common goals; we achieve more together than alone. 

While likely nobody could prompt every ambitious overachiever to reorient their priorities away from conforming to social pressure and creating exclusive clubs, the straightforward solution that everyone forgets to practice is prizing autheticity. We can create more opportunities for students to step outside of their usual social circles or utilize vast campus resources to boost our resumes, but if we fail to authentically care for each other or speak what is actually on our mind, we will never “swim well” or be good swimmers. 

Looking forward: Everything will take time. As a middle schooler, I firmly believed time would solve every problem, and although my understanding has grown more nuanced, I still believe time can do wonders for us if we stay dedicated to our goals and causes. Although our fears of social isolation and college may lead us to closed-off social circles and superficial extracurricular activities, having faith that time will lead us to the people and opportunities that fulfill us will ultimately ensure our success. Looking back at my unfinished Lawrenceville journey, I realize initial roadblocks like acclimating to Harkness have become relics of the past. So, I encourage fellow new swimmers out there to place the same faith in time as I do, for we will never truly predict the future nor achieve the perfection we picture for ourselves—sometimes, our best effort is the process itself. To every other experienced swimmer of the Lawrenceville sea: Let’s kill the elephants in the room between us and emerge as one united, proud TEAM. 

You will find that as you continue to figure out your path amidst the sea, everyone is doing the same—and every swimmer, new and returning, will struggle and succeed. At the end of the day, Lawrenceville is but just one ocean; the world is our true oyster, and all the time we have together is temporary and precious. As long as we all continue to swim together, we will never drown—and we shall one day collectively reach the finish line with a fulfilling honor in our hearts.