Senior Reflection: Anna Kim

I’m a fast walker. Maybe it’s a consequence of growing up as an only child who had to keep up with her parents, or because sometimes I’m just impatient. When I had five extra minutes, I would open Canvas to plan what had to be done for tomorrow. 

I first came to Exeter, in October 2020, after spending six months at home. My mom, who was especially worried about getting sick after her fight with cancer a few years back, moved our family into lockdown. Our neighbors and I viewed each other as threats and carriers of disease, so our usual long chatty post-dinner walks turned into brisk walks where we would cross the street to avoid others who happened to be avoiding us too 

My first Exeter move-in day was dominated by masks and social distancing. The first months were a mad scramble to learn how to Harkness and to remember not to eat or drink for half an hour before doing our spit covid tests. On the first weekend back in February, my friend Lucy and I huddled under the library arches, braving the windy 20 degree day to eat together. 

With unengaging zoom classes and intentional singles for preps, we were always outside - this was the only way we could spend time with each other. We were told that we had to walk from point A to point B in the most efficient way possible. We had to do everything with the fear of getting sick from someone else, forced to constantly calculate a kind of cost benefit analysis. I didn’t do a lot of things that were unplanned - unplanned meant a risk of getting covid and unplanned meant an already long to-do list would just get longer. 

Gradually, thankfully, things got better. I had my first in-person class my prep spring, with plexiglass dividers and a 360 camera in the center for classmates who stayed home or were sick. Lower year brought changing restrictions as we adapted to variants. That spring, Lucy and I went to get our vaccines between class and practice. And I still vividly remember how she fainted after getting it. Lucy had always hated needles, but at least we weren’t late to practice. Upper and senior years brought a new normalcy. I changed sports, was voted as captain of that new team, and also became a Dunbar proctor. And with the return of Exeter came the return of sitting outside until it was too dark to see each other, of running to Stillwells before check-in. Looking back, pandemic Exeter - prep and lower year - seem so distant. It seems crazy to remember experiencing that kind of Exeter, one where even outdoor practices were masked and socially distanced, and one where I didn’t get a prep year Dundaba, our annual last night of school tradition where we share stories from the year. 

But those first two years, I found myself rushing to my classes and rehearsal, rushing to get through practice just to go back to orchestra, all before starting my homework. Harkness stumped me, and I didn’t talk in the first week of any class until senior winter. I had a difficult time balancing between the day-to-day and the big picture. And Exeter, especially a pandemic version Exeter, really made sure to show me that problem.

Lingering became a skill to relearn. At first, it had to be done intentionally. Reminding myself that I could still get everything done that was expected of me. And eventually, almost unconsciously, it became a part of who I am and how I love. 

I sit in Sunday Elm from open to close, doing homework, watching the breakfast and lunch crowds come and go. I love weekday breakfasts, showing up way earlier than it takes for me to eat a bagel so I can open the NYT mini and compete with the table to see who wins. 

I think that to linger, you must be able to trust yourself. You have to believe in your time management abilities. You have to trust that you can manage everything an “Exeter student” has on their plate, to know that if you give a little here, you can still get everything done. And of course this takes practice. And a lot of failing. 

The other night, I was on a walk and we ran into friends. Randomly seeing each other outside of Stillwells but stopping to have a half an hour conversation was maybe one of the best memories of my senior year. The next day, I was walking with a direction in mind - to go watch a friends’ tennis game, but then I ended up sitting on the ground of the field house, talking with people for another half an hour. 

I think it’s hard at Exeter to divert yourself from the main path - both on a large and a small scale. Even though countless assembly speakers preach the importance of failing and to try something new, I think Exonians still struggle to put this into practice. I know I did. We’ve been drilled to make to-do lists and move with purpose from class to class. But my most treasured memories are the times that I diverted from these expectations. It’s stopping to have conversations during my proctor duty nights even when you have a scary chem problem sitting in front of you, or to answer a track race strategy question, or yelling someone’s name across the quad and seeing what they’re up to. 

I’m endlessly grateful for the friends who chose to believe in me when I didn’t myself, and the teachers and coaches that had my back through countless new challenges. They are the best part of every story I have from these past four years. 

If I had five more minutes, I’d choose to wait in the atrociously long Elm line with my classmates just to continue our discussion from class. If I had five more minutes, I’d sit on the Downer turf with my teammates after a big workout, talking about nothing so we could spend more time together. If I had five more minutes, I might even ask to stay in rehearsal longer to run through the piece one more time and make funny faces and mouth words to my cellist friends sitting across the aisle.  

“Are you glad you came to Exeter?” Coach Bob asks me during my second-to-last Sunday brunch. 

“Yes,” I say, “I don’t know if I could do it again. Though I wish I could take the people and the library quad with me.”