On the Condition of Exonians

By  ARYAN AGARWAL ‘27

Your time at Exeter is not nearly as important as you believe it to be. From the classes you take to the grades you get, the sports you play to the clubs you do, or whatever other items I could’ve added to this already dragging list, they really do not matter. Your life is much broader than you could ever imagine, but you fail to appreciate what you truly love (and what truly loves you), while you give all too much value to this institution.

I’ll apologize in advance for my bluntness in the preceding and following writing, but I do believe that I can open your eyes to a few thoughts that you may not have considered about your “Exeter experience,” and especially some ideas which you may not even want to consider. As a disclaimer, though my first few sentences may have seemed a bit nihilistic, believe me, I am not a nihilist. To get us started, I’ll bring up something from my English class that intrigued me quite a bit. 

If you were to die in a year, what would you spend the last three-hundred-and-sixty-five days of your life doing? Yes, it is dark, but nonetheless an interesting question. My English teacher implored us about this a few weeks back, going around the Harkness table to collect answers.

“Spend more time with family.”

“Go sailing.”

“Ask out my crush.”

My teacher conducted this experiment as a way to show us that when asked this question, we reveal who we truly are. I learned that aside from the lives that we all live on a daily basis, there are certain things that matter to us more than others, and certain things that matter to us so much that we would spend our last moments with them. More explicitly, here is the point that I am trying to make: would you, knowing that your time was coming to an end, be as concerned about this school as you are right now?

I’m sure that upon learning about your approaching demise, the value of your education at Exeter would drop considerably. Much of the significance that you give school is contingent upon your future success: the college you go to, the job you get, your salary, and whatever other plans you may have. This all goes out of the window though, leaving you with your true definition of a fulfilling life, bare-bones.

In no way am I suggesting that school doesn’t matter; I am a strong believer in secondary, and even higher-education. Still, to suggest that a four-year timeframe, in a life-lasting over seventy-six years on average, will make-or-break your Earthly experience, is irrational. There are certain things that should absolutely take precedence over our academics. Nonetheless, there seems to be a mindset which has permeated itself throughout the minds of Exonians. Students think that this small school, located in a remote town in the chilly Northeast, is all there is to their seemingly purposeless existence. In this article, I will state the facts, explain my reasoning, and reveal my conclusions on the condition of Exonians.

When an environment innately causes your entire life to revolve around the function of the system, then you will know nothing and think nothing of the surrounding world. A zoo seems to be the perfect analogy–am I comparing Exonians to zoo animals? Yes, I am. 

We conduct a thought experiment: we take a baby lioness from her natural habitat, and put her into a zoo until she reaches adulthood. The lioness is fed daily in the amounts that she desires, given water, taken on walks, and whatever else is conducive for her growth. She will do these things habitually, and think nothing of them. The lioness knows the zoo and nothing else. Say that we then take this lioness and put her into the wild with no support. Now, many issues arise. Most importantly, the lioness cannot fend for herself. Her sources of survival have been cut, and she has no idea what to do, or more, how to do it. She cannot hunt or find a pride, and will eventually die.

The relevant idea from this experiment is that the lioness had no self-purpose beyond her typical habitat of the zoo enclosure. An onlooker beyond the enclosure, let’s say a young boy, watches this lioness from behind the enclosure glass. He has the capability to wonder and question the sad and limited life of the animal because he has knowledge of the freedom that wild lionesses enjoy. In contrast, the lioness herself doesn’t even know that there is a life beyond the zoo, and thus has no reason to challenge the purpose of her existence. As soon as she is taken out of the environment, questions of meaning begin. What kind of life should this lioness lead?

Now of course, it feels extreme to compare the lioness’ situation with your own condition. That is because it is. It is true that Exeter as a school is not as prison-like as a zoo, and that Exonians do know life outside of the school. For the sake of curiosity though, let’s take a step back. Let us say that I, the writer of this article, assume the role of the little boy, looking in at Exonians who reside in the enclosure that is Phillips Exeter Academy. Many will find this highly egoistic: how am I, an Exonian myself, so entitled as to judge everyone else at this school which I am a student at? This is why I caution you to take everything that I say from this point on with a large grain of salt. 

You wake up for your 8:00 a.m. classes each day, dragging yourself out of bed following a lackluster night of sleep. You skip breakfast and head straight to class, stomach rumbling. After your day of dreadful discussions dealing with Harkness warriors and occasionally annoying teachers, you have sports practice. You put your body through physical fatigue for two hours, only on top of the mental tiredness that you face. Going to the dining hall, you avoid the long lines just to miss out on the proper nutrients. You quickly finish your meal, and hustle to club meetings or orchestra, returning to your dorm by the time it’s pitch black, a mountainous pile of homework waiting for you. By the time your day is over, your clock flashes 1:37 a.m. as you pass out on your bed, waiting to repeat the cycle again tomorrow. 

This is not the same for everyone I will admit, but a large majority of our lives revolve around this school. Students eat, sleep, and study here. Even during periods that should be spent relaxing, we manage to find ways to do homework. One can easily draw multiple parallels to the example of the lioness: we complete our daily routines without thought, in many ways shielded from “normal” lives. Realistically, the occasions on which we can leave Exeter, times when we can take our minds off this school, are so very rare. How often can we go out to town with friends or meet our families back home? That means that in many ways, we will face similar dilemmas to the lioness after we leave our typical habitat. For students, that means graduation.

I’m sure that we all have some ideas about what we would like our life after Exeter to look like—what college we want to go to, what we want to study, or the type of job we want. Still, many of these thoughts are very one-dimensional. They still lie in the plane of academics or career. The truth is that most Exonians haven’t considered what they want outside of that world. They don’t know the kind of person they would like to be when there are things other than going to class and getting good grades. That means values like family and charity. 

This phenomenon isn’t limited to Exeter: this is a human condition, not just an Exonian condition. Still, the issue is more pervasive on our campus because of the fact that boarding schools create a more shut-off environment than the lives of the average high schooler. Exonians will likely face issues surrounding their purpose upon graduation, and finding a solution seems impossible. It seems as though this problem is just inherent to the nature of Phillips Exeter Academy, and it may just be a trade-off from the numerous other benefits that students receive.

I think that the ultimate take-away here is merely to be aware of this occurrence. To understand that you are being sucked into this vortex is itself a defense. Exeter is just a step in our lives rather than an end-all be-all. What we learn here, the friends we make here, no matter how sad it may seem, are fleeting, and that is OK. Truly, how bad will it be if you miss a few classes or get a few bad grades? In the greater scheme of our world, these so-called problems are trivial. In many ways, this momentary nature is the very reason that Exonians have decided to attend this all-too rigorous school. There are bigger and better things waiting for us after, and to use Exeter as a tool to move forward is a much more productive, and more importantly, genuine way to spend your time here.