The kid in front of me in the Commons line is squinting at the black and white dining hall picture, his nose inches from its surface. I observe, with some amusement, his precarious position, balanced over the upturned silverware. He is musing to his friend several decibels above a normal speaking tone. I listen, at first mildly interested, but feigning preoccupation. His confusion is not because of the white tablecloths of this foreign dining age, or the order and calmness of this commons scene – a far cry from what it is today. He is most perplexed by the “waiters” lining the walls. He then stated, “Why can’t we have some?” Over by the frozen yogurt machine, someone else’s complaint rises above the chatter. A girl is perturbed by the “stupidity” of Commons duty, for she is “already paying $30,000 a year to come here,” and is that not that enough? I wonder if this girl has stopped to notice the old commons photo and its white jacketed waiters. No, commons has not declined in its service since the “good old days” of blazers and khakis. Those are not actual waiters, even though they are obviously performing the services of waiters. Rather, they are the financial aid students from a time when socioeconomics governed one’s privileges at Andover. Diversity is not only celebrated through the context of “multi-cultural development.” Students come from a variety of backgrounds to enrich the school community, and today Andover strives to provide those of “limiting financial means” with equal opportunity for a PA education. Thirty-nine percent of the student body receives some form of financial aid each year. If anyone of us believes that the amount we can afford to pay should affect our responsibilities as members of this community, then perhaps we do not deserve the privilege of this high caliber of education. Students express an unwillingness to complete simple tasks around campus on the because of the number of zeroes on their tuition bill, but what about students who are not in the same financial bracket? While today all students are expected to fulfill their work duties, this level playing field did not always exist. In the 1960s and into the 70s, for example, only the financial aid students were required to participate in regular work duty. They worked in the admissions office, giving tours; in commons, washing dishes, and in any number of offices, doing left over odd jobs. The only exception to this was that one week every year, non-scholarship students were required to do commons duty. My Uncle, a member of the Class of 1969, can remember hearing similar sentiments of distaste at the kinds of work being done by financial aid students. They were commonly expressed by students who were not required to complete such duties. Fortunately, the system has since evolved so that no one feels indebted to the school if their parents’ income “falls short” of a margin that most of middle class America fails to meet. No one here is above these banal tasks, regardless of their future aspirations. Laundry will always need to be done, dishes will always need to be washed, mail will always need to be sent, and it has to be done by someone. As future Andover graduates, we are privileged with the knowledge that success is as close to guaranteed as anything ever could be. Still, what kind of future leader is the kid who earned a 6 in History 300 but has no appreciation for the fact that he was actually given the opportunity to take that class? We need not worship every hallowed blade of grass on the great lawn, but we might want to start thinking about why work duty is so much of a greater hardship than community service. Regardless of which holds more weight on a college application, I have heard people who do both criticize work duty on the premise that they are perfectly deserving of being here, with or without making copies for the Office of the Dean of Students. Despite what our parents pay in tuition, we cannot delude ourselves into thinking that the world we enter after commencement owes us any of the services provided to us here. It is not the money nor the intellect that makes us deserving of being at Andover. It is the attitude with which we pursue and cherish the opportunities and privileges granted to us.