Experience Exeter
Concepts like the American Dream—that every American, through hard work and dedication, has the equal opportunity to succeed—and American Exceptionalism—that America is simply different and, well exceptional, in comparison to other nations—are studied in great detail by upperclassmen in the 330 history sequence. Exeter has an eerily similar parallel.
Mar. 10 is the annual birth date of the Exeter Dream. It offers official confirmation that here lies this path through which those who choose to take it may be exposed to a different, better, exceptional set of experiences and opportunities. The Exeter Dream is a special gift, and it has the potential to manifest into positive outcomes that surround ideals like goodness and knowledge. It also has the dark capability of morphing into a monster that feeds and festers off entitlement: Exeter Exceptionalism.
We begin to perceive phrases we are constantly reiterated like the “best and the brightest” as harmless jokes—which I suppose is better than taking them all seriously—but the constant flow of this humor also skews our perception in that it makes exceptionalism both something we are accustomed to in addition to something we consider lightly.
One of the most ubiquitous feelings on campus is that we are miserable and worked until we are absolutely worn. Yet at the same time, there exists an underlying feeling of entitlement—that we are somehow special or better because we attend Exeter. It’s a feeling that is often kept inside, but it plagues this campus, and it is only exacerbated by the constant misery and relentless work we find ourselves stressing over 24/7. The most blunt, unapologetic way to outline this mindset is: we work so hard; we put ourselves through so much unnecessary trouble; if I have sacrificed so much of my teenage years and survived this hell, that experience makes me better than others. That’s not to say we haven’t worked hard or don’t deserve things that we earn; rather, the exceptionalism I’m talking about is the dangerous mindset of entitlement: that we “survived Exeter,” the hell of all hells, and for that price, we don’t deserve a couple good things—we deserve everything.
At some point or another, we are all guilty of it. I know I am. Ultimately, it makes us hate Exeter in a way that also allows us to give ourselves affirmation in believing it is what makes us better, special, exceptional.
I am defensive back home—I don’t like to complain about all the issues I face at the Academy in front of my extended family or friends. I want them to think I have it all together and that Exeter is great. And perhaps somehow, if they believe that, maybe they’ll think highly of me, too. But while at school, with my friends, no one puts up a filter. We verbalize how hellish of a day or term or year we’re having, and we unapologetically find all the faults we can in the community around us.
And it is times like Experience Exeter where we find ourselves at a twisted crossroad. On one hand, we are trudging through the lingering puddles of melting snow and grinding through classes just like we always do, yet we are also a part of upholding the glory that is Exeter. There is something glamorous, something special, something twisted, in the pride you feel with all the visitors oohing and aahing and taking their Academy lawn pictures and eating the Exeter bars and fawning over your “brilliant” comment in the classes you glossed over your homework for last night. And that something is essentially “entitlement.”
Every school has its issues like this, but they compound when the school you’re talking about boasts an in-depth Business Insider report on “daily life” here (as it is supposed to appear to the public at least) and claims #1 on lists like America’s Best Prep Schools. As much as we want to say they are “stupid,” “pointless” and “void of meaning,” there is a dangerous sliver in all of us that believes even a fraction of the fluff they’re publishing.
Some of us Exonians also speak of friends in “public school” back home, EHS or even new uppers/seniors/PGs who have spent a large deal of time at other school in a way that almost sounds like “they don’t get it”—as if “getting it,” or understanding the world, or growing as a student or person is something that can be done only at a place like Exeter. And that’s wrong.
Upper year, I heard Exeter College Counseling explain that the college process may be the first time that some Exonians receive rejection in their lives—after all, until this point, if you made it into Exeter, you didn’t know what an academic or admission “mishap” could feel like. We were assured, however, that all Exonians go to great schools, and even if not, we would be successful and do well in life. And this conclusion was all based off of one singular, simple reason—because we attended Exeter.
Because we attended Exeter we are somehow entitled to do great things. That is exceptionalism.
I have been pushed way harder these last four years than I could have possibly imagined walking around Experience Exeter on a cold April morning back in 2011. I say with confidence that many other have had similar experiences. But that change in self or surpassing of new limits does not make anyone an inherently more deserving person of accomplishments or good things in life. It’s true that Exeter is quite the experience—one that you cannot translate just by shadowing an Exonian for half a day. But experience is not a synonym for merit because whatever we want to call it—undergoing, attending, “surviving,” experiencing Exeter in the flesh does not give us license to rebrand our misery as entitlement for other things—everything—in life. ♥