Editorial

Chasing the Rain

Hair soaked with rain, eyes wild underneath the stadium lights, and spirits emboldened by an evening of good-natured rivalry, students let out thrilling cheers as the five cluster flags bounced wildly in the crowd from person to person. Moments before, Andover’s first ever Cluster Olympics had students gathered in pensive rows in the bleachers, chanting and clapping loudly for their teammates fiercely competing for victory. And suddenly, just as quickly as the clouds had unleashed their first torrents of rain, hundreds of students rushed onto the Phelps Stadium field with their hands in the air, their hearts filled with the exhilarating rush of joining one thousand peers in a spontaneous celebration under the pouring sky.

Andover is filled with these moments. Whether it be in class, walking back to the dorm, at sports practice, or attending mandatory school-wide events like the Cluster Olympics, our lives here are abundant with opportunities to reach out and latch onto something special. And while they might not be as obvious or as striking as sprinting onto a wet field with your friends while screaming your lungs out, they are ever present, if only we seek them out, if only we ask ourselves why not, if only we are willing to take the first step despite the fear that may initially plague our consciousnesses.

Finding these moments begins first and foremost with giving yourself and the people around you the space to do so. Perhaps contrary to what you have convinced yourself or what your college counselor or parents or anybody else might tell you, the “Andover experience” is not one set pathway. There is no perfect series of courses you should take, nor are there certain clubs that are guaranteed to lead you to success (what does “success” even look like, anyway?). There are no guidelines as to which activities and achievements to tack onto the bottom of your resume to get you into that college you’ve dreamed of attending since middle school. And perhaps most crucially, there is no singular you that you must become.

Instead, the “Andover experience” is a journey of becoming. It is vulnerability, not resistance, that fosters growth. It is flexibility, not rigidity, that allows for the discovery of oneself. Remember, Andover is a community that we have chosen to be a part of. From the moment you accepted your offer to this school, to the first time you heard the melodious chimes of the bell tower at five o’clock in the evening, to the routine of walking up the worn marble steps of the Commons stairs you have now become familiar with, Andover has instilled itself into you. Its humility, or perhaps its arrogance; its two-century-old history, and the narrative it continues to write; its 700-acre campus, and its reverence of the people that give it life. You are now one of those people. You are now one of us. Bare your heart on your sleeve and let yourself be everything and anything that you wish; take advantage of the wondrous people you will meet, the once-in-a-lifetime recklessness of youth where the world is at your mercy. The future is made up of endless universes of possibility, but so is the present; do not let daydreams of a time not yet arrived blind you from seeing the blossoming colors of what is right in front of you.

To those of you who are taking their first steps onto Andover’s campus this Fall, this is an opportunity to take risks, to let go, to embrace spontaneity—perhaps coming to Andover was that first step. To those who are returning to Andover, just because you’ve been here for previous years doesn’t mean things have to be the way they were before. They can be new and they can be better—the Cluster Olympics are an exhibition of that. When we approach Andover enthusiastically and unabashedly, even the evening rain can turn into a dance party.

Whether it’s your first year at Andover, your last, or somewhere in between, this is your time and your place to buy in. This is the moment. In every passing day, make space for the voice that urges you to dance those first steps onto a football field. Make room for the you that strains to break free.