Editorial: Upper Year: Grief, Loss, Reconciliation, and Hope

By NHAN PHAN ‘24

I joke with my friends that probably up until this point in time, the class of 2024 has seen it all. Entering an eerie, socially-distanced campus during the height of a global pandemic, we have witnessed in several ways the falling apart of America: a political turmoil resultant of a belligerent outgoing president refusing to accept a peaceful transition of power, a national reckoning with race as a result of the killing of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and countless other people of color, a deadly insurrection which has placed the fragility of American democracy in the spotlight, the overturning of Roe v. Wade and the battle to protect abortions, as well as instances of the more severe implications of climate change on American cities and towns. On a more global scale, we are living through a period of intense international conflict: from the Taliban’s rapid claim over Afghanistan to the Russia-Ukraine War. Yet on a more local scale, our time at Exeter has witnessed high ups and low downs of our own: our own grappling with a Vanity Fair article that highlighted the Academy’s mishandling of the sexual assault investigation process, the trial of a disgraced former teacher, and the passing away of a beloved member of the community. And as I look back on an unforgettable upper year in my Exeter career, I offer a hopeful reflection.

“I learned that grief is a powerful expression of love. Grief is a sign that you are still keeping those that you have lost in mind, and in heart.”

I want to start off with grief and loss. I have had a painful experience with grief this year as I not only lost a dorm mate and a dear friend, but also my family members and childhood companions. When I decided to come to Exeter, I acknowledged that there will be times when I will feel alone, isolated, and helpless. I just did not expect these feelings to come so soon, and so intensely. But through this journey, I have learned a lot of things about myself and about those around me. Through my journey with constant compounded loss, I learned that grief is a powerful expression of love. Grief is a sign that you are still keeping those that you have lost in mind, and in heart. And in my grieving process, I have learned to be more appreciative of how fragile the status quo can be. All grief has done is inspire me to love more fiercely than I ever have before. But this is not without saying that I have reached points where I was emotionally burnt out. A shortcoming that I have noticed with myself was that I didn’t take care of myself enough when I needed to. In those moments, I had told myself to give myself grace but ultimately pressed on with life as usual anyway thinking that I was able to cope with the pain. And in those moments, I learned something about the people around me. It is at Exeter that I found my second family: a group of people that are positive, raucous, and helpful in their own ways. And in moments of need, I was touched by how willing they were to listen. Perhaps, that is what we all have been trained to do: to listen actively, and carefully. I was touched by the care that Exonians have demonstrated for one another: a kind of non-sibi that is not material in nature but instead instinctual. It goes to show that there is still a lot of compassion in all of us, and that is a much-needed reminder in the middle of a world where kindness may not be as nearly as abundant. We need to live with kindness in our hearts, and gratefulness for the expended time and vivid memories that those around us have made with us. We need to lead our lives with love.

I then want to turn to work. It was during this year that work had a new meaning for me: a coping mechanism. Like many other Exonians, I derive some satisfaction from knowing that I have gotten things done. But at this time in my life, work felt more like a mechanism to tell myself that my life is still intact. Though this may sound reasonable, it represents something far more unhealthy about Exeter culture than previously thought. It did not surprise me that the Academy’s response to the resumption of classes was out of an abundance of caution to provide “structure” to the student body. Work is seen as “structure” when the situation at hand has disrupted all kinds of structures in students’ lives. I would have hoped that work occupied a different role in my life, but I have grown to accept its influence. In the results of Dr. Kari Hart’s survey, about 71 percent of respondents reported that they frequently feel stressed about their schoolwork or academic experience. I believe that some level of stress is healthy as it keeps you accountable for your obligations; however, to have to perpetually be in a constant cycle of worrying about your school work when there are other things to worry about is concerning. It is often that I see students who are more worried about their homework than calling home to their parents, or those that have to prioritize homework over visiting their sick friend in the hospital. To place homework so far up the priority scale that it trumps friends and family is indicative of how work has become more than just what it is: it has been ingrained into Exeter culture as a key indicator of what stability looks like. We have to do work to feel stable; this cannot continue. 

“I am hopeful for a fun year when all of our work pays off. I hope all of our time here at Exeter culminates on a high note.”

Lastly, I want to talk about time. Before I came to Exeter, I was told that four years were going to fly by. I didn’t believe those who said that to me, but now I do. So much of my time has been taken up by my work that during this year, I had an honest re-evaluation of my work obligations. I had reconciled with obligations that I could no longer hold or that I do not have as enough energy to hold as I had before; I was being honest with myself. And I have reaped the benefits of doing so. I now feel like I have time. I feel like I have time to do the things that I love and spend time with the people that I love. I have called my parents more often and had more time to get to know the adult faculty that I work so closely with on a more interpersonal level. But as senior year approaches, the question for me that I am answering now is how do I spend that time? One of my friends once told me to live more in the present and to appreciate taking things day by day. I came to learn the importance of taking things day by day as I grappled with hard emotions after the compounded loss of my friends and family. And what I realized throughout this year was that the ‘present’ here at Exeter matters. You can make only so many plans for the future, but many of those plans are impacted by the choices you make today, this morning, and tonight. And I used to think a lot about what the future looks like for me (in a way, I still do). But what my friends have allowed me to do is to take my mind off of things and be with them right then and there. I will choose to spend my time compassionately, loving those I love as if I have everything to give. I will choose to spend my time productively, embarking on work and projects that I enjoy doing. My Senior Project, a month-long travel opportunity in Hoi An, Vietnam, is an opportunity for me to blur the lines between art and academia: a project that I have planned for several years and I am grateful that Exeter has provided me with the opportunity to share my work with the world. And most importantly, I will choose to spend my time creating memories. 

Rising seniors, as we all navigate senior year, very real-world things will happen and we may not see each other as often after we graduate. Spend this time taking photos, going out, and doing things that you love with those who you love most. Please lead with kindness and carry the hope that good things will happen. I am hopeful for a fun year when all of our work pays off. I hope all of our time here at Exeter culminates on a high note.