Response to “‘The Exonian Republic’ and Other Fallacies”
In an opinion piece last week, titled “‘The Exonian Republic’ and Other Fallacies,” lower Eugene Nakamoto defined Phillips Exeter Academy as an institution—one in which liberty, equality and fraternity have no place. One in which we, as a student body, deserve no freedom. One in which we deserve no justice. Unfortunately, his definition of an institution is narrow and perhaps more suited for a fascist penitentiary.
Contradictory to Nakamoto’s claims, we believe that Phillips Exeter Academy is an institution built for the students. We are not here as “merely the consumers of a preparatory education,” but rather as the consumers of the Exeter Experience. The bond between students and the Academy is much more than just an economic one. Students attend the school to build relationships and to explore both new and old interests, not simply to attend classes. To boil down the experience to a pecuniary transaction is to be narrow-minded and ungrateful.
Nakamoto bases his argument under the assumption that the Academy functions on the most basic definition of an institution—a society or organization that is built with a singular purpose in mind. Of course, as he claims, an institution is not obliged to give us multiple degrees of freedom. But ours chooses to do so in order to move us forward as individuals so that we are given the capability to glean much more than an education; our kind of institution does not limit us. In this way and contrary to Nakamoto’s assertion, we can relate our studentship to citizenship. We can draw parallels between our freedom of speech, freedom of self-expression and freedom of happiness. We do, indeed, have rights.
To start, Nakamoto accuses the Academy of restricting our right to free speech by not allowing “the publication of material that humiliates, disparages or demeans group identities.” He claims this action is a threat to satire and other forms of criticism. The restriction doesn’t censor; it protects students from hate speech. The Exonian’s humor page takes many jabs against major figures, such as Dean of Residential Life AJ Cosgrove, and different sports teams. Even Nakamoto’s famed republics have limitations imposed on free speech. In the United States, for example, we have laws against defamation, slander and libel, and we abide by standards like the Miller Test. These limitations, which the Academy has adopted, foster a positive atmosphere where discussion and growth can take place.
StuCo holds an extraordinary amount of power. We “plebeian students,” in the words of Nakamoto, do indeed have the power to make the school better. StuCo is more than just a “dirty sham.” Our presidents, elected annually by the student body, have had the drive to accomplish tangible progress around campus. Admittedly, we are not in full control of every decision. But that’s understandable, given that we are still minors and we operate under the supervision of our adult mentors; it is quite apparent that any major reform takes place only with approval of the administration.
The school aims to make students into good people. The Academy also aims to foster discussion, the center of our pedagogy. Yet Nakamoto claims that the school “mentally sterilizes” and “rhetorically neuters” us when we discuss “Orwellian jargon such as ‘appropriation,’ ‘microaggression’ and ‘political correctness.’” Asking students to be respectful of other cultures and beliefs is not Orwellian. It is human. Discussion surrounding micro-aggressions was meant to foster respect towards other races, cultures and beliefs, which is an integral part of “goodness.”
According to Nakamoto, our “ruthlessly-prejudiced” DC acts as a “brutally efficient public-relations tool.” The committee utilizes a very complicated and layered system, taking into account adviser and peer statements, yet he claims that “justice does not serve the individual.” The DC is not purely punitive; it hands out consequences. It helps students reflect on their actions and learn from their mistakes. Ultimately, as Nakamoto says, the DC maintains the school’s reputation. However, this is achieved through the upholding of the DC’s main purpose: to ensure the safety of the students and preserve rules that have been established by the school.
We enroll in the Academy on our own accord. But that doesn’t mean we can’t strive to make this institution even better. Nakamoto approaches the situation with the view of a cynic, refusing to “sympathize with the anti-institutional sentiments of [his] peers,” and claiming that “undeniably, none of us deserve any kind of freedom at this school.” Yet, while denouncing the actions of his fellow classmates, he pushes forward the idea of creating a new “Exonian Republic”—the idea of which heavily contradicts his staunch support of institutionalism and invariability. It is within this ambivalence where Nakamoto’s logic falters.
The Academy has already achieved the republican ideals of Nakamoto’s “Exonian Republic.” The Academy has afforded the student body many basic rights. In fact, it has gone even further, breaking free from the shackles of the past by increasing student say. By donning red sweatshirts with “EXETER” boldly printed across the chests, we have already claimed ourselves to be part of the Exonian Republic. By recognizing that we have adopted many republican ideals and that we must better our school, we continue, in the words of Lord Alfred Tennyson, “to strive, to seek, to find and not to yield.”