Remember to Breathe at Burroughs
by Janani Balasubramanian
Opinions Editor
In my five years here, I have spent a significant majority of my time worrying about my next exam, curled up in the library, and not thinking beyond fifth period homework. Burroughs keeps us tired, after all, and rightly so—so much to fit into a few short years. We have difficult curricula, demanding teachers, athletic requirements, no end of extracurricular commitments, and of course a few moments to eat, sometimes breathe. Typical students will not sleep more than seven hours, the chronic procrastinators even less, and somehow we still fit in social interaction. I am not here to offer you another "slow down and relax" article or a "don’t worry about your grades" piece, for either of those options would be not only impractical but also downright hypocritical. I did not slow down here often; I persisted a constant hyper mode; and I lived to talk about it. I have regrets about specific moments, even entire chapters of my Burroughs experience, but overall I enjoyed myself. Yet, I do have misgivings about some of my decisions and about why I never figured out a few ideas before my senior year. Perhaps they are simply concepts I could not come to terms with before the long string of events that preceded these final few months, but more likely I think I was just ignorant and myopic.
Many students here have some sense of who they are, but most are still in the process of exploring, not in some inaccessibly philosophical thinking, but by the action of merely existing in this high stress, high expectations environment. Burroughs’s student body possesses some degree of racial and economic diversity, but for the most part the students come from similar backgrounds in this regard. We find it easy to label each other and ourselves, not just on the basis of these identities but also by what we do. We are musicians, artists, scientists, math whizzes, contortionists, gymnasts, dancers, poets, National Merit Scholars, football stars, lacrosse captains, linguists, volunteers, and babysitters. We are also D students, uncoordinated dunces, chronic class-skippers, slow readers, insomniacs, and utterly pessimistic, cynical misanthropes. I must know when we will stop, when we will take it upon ourselves to stop doing and start living, to engage ourselves, certainly, in all our passions and responsibilities and grab hold of every privilege we have, but still find time to discover what in us is just human. Perhaps we are not more than the sum of our parts, and we have no greater good; I certainly do not have enough faith to spread such messages; instead, I suggest we merely comprise more than what A.A. Milne calls "busy backsons." We are certainly very busy, but we do not have to stereotype ourselves. I have found it more than easy to become entrapped in certain labels or patterns of thought--the manga fanatic, the calculus lover, the vegetarian, the runner--but when I step back and assess for a few minutes, I have to separate myself from all that I do as a student or otherwise and just be. I will likely major in engineering, never eat meat, and run as long as I am able, but I have to remember to identify foremost as a person, or my circles of friends will be very insular indeed.
I have thoroughly enjoyed the freedom of thought and expression the school has offered me, in addition to the independence. Yet I still find students here being afraid to speak up on certain issues, myself no exception, and I wonder. I wonder what holds all of us back, what semblance of politeness, what social code, what groupthink. Towards the beginning of the year, everyone was commenting on just how many sound-offs we had been hearing, how unusual that was. It should not be unusual. What Burroughs gives us in the open-podium policy is gold; it is an amazing opportunity to make our voices heard and have others hear us openly express our viewpoints, which we expect will be received with respect, if not always consensus. I am sure everyone knows where I stand on the corsage controversy that encompassed three separate speeches, but I can say honestly that I appreciated the dialogue. I felt content, glad even, that in response to the William’s speech, Megan and Nicole took a stand and made their opinions known. I believe it is that type of action that the school has been lacking and will continue to lack if the student body does not put its abilities to work to challenge each other and our communities.
Younger students especially, but even the oldest, have some chronic fear of confrontational behavior, of being perceived as villains or socially cast out. This is high school, after all; one of the main goals of many students is merely to fit in—to find a group, and hold tightly to it. So we see the formation of cliques, each with their own superiority complexes and herd mentalities. Power here comes from social acceptance. We have such an epidemic of perfectionism that any negative commentary seems enough to scare us away. Accordingly, the difficulty in asking students to take stands to promote a more respectful community comes from the overwhelming fear of standing all alone, pathetically, with a message in hand and whispers behind one’s back. Criticizing what is common practice, then, becomes a capital crime, and we allow ourselves to sit back and accept for now, hoping someone else will take action, in an unproductive game of mental hot potato.
I really value what this school professes to teach, and the efforts of faculty and administration to achieve those goals. I respect and admire my teachers, and have found my classes exciting and engaging. What we as students must realize, though, is just how much power we have. When someone does voice a controversial viewpoint here, the student body usually gives the individual due respect, but we need to go further. We have to actively listen and heed each other’s words and take it upon ourselves to speak up as well.