Andover boasts a diverse student body on this campus. One of our core pillars is “Youth From Every Quarter.” Any Andover student will tell you that they’ve heard the phrase “53 countries and 41 states” countless times. With this heterogeneity comes something our school discusses extensively: our affinity groups. Most students have been involved in affinity groups at Andover at least once. They provide spaces for students who share similar identities, affirming their sense of belonging and representation; there is no doubt that they exist for a good cause. However, the way affinity groups work is actually counterproductive in achieving that goal. Each of these groups emphasizes differences rather than encouraging dialogue between them. Despite their best intentions, affinity groups at Andover actually tend to divide the community rather than bond it.
Affinity groups fragment students into different factions of “people like me,” limiting their ability to take full advantage of the myriad divergent perspectives available at Andover. According to a study by Cornell University, affinity groups strengthen relationships within the group at the expense of intergroup collaboration, ultimately promoting insularity and limiting the potential for broader community cohesion. This phenomenon is particularly applicable to Andover, where students come from varied backgrounds. Although classes and afternoon activities bring us together by requirement, it is in the experiences we choose for ourselves that the strongest relationships are formed. True growth in communities and individuals comes from engaging across differences, not retreating from them. By isolating ourselves in affinity groups, we risk turning Andover’s greatest strength, its diverse network and community, into a missed opportunity. For a group whose efforts are to establish connection and foster belonging, affinity groups paradoxically end up highlighting our differences by separating students into identity-based batches: Asian students here, Black students there, LGBTQ+ students elsewhere. This deepens separation and leaves fewer opportunities for genuine cross-group friendships.
As the number of affinity groups has multiplied over the years, identities have become more narrowly defined, reducing their ability to foster genuine cross-community connections. From my experience, some affinity groups only resurface around college application season, when students want another line on their resume. This performative cycle reduces affinity groups to symbols of representation rather than spaces of authentic dialogue, weakening their ability to build authentic friendships across identities and instead reinforcing divides. Additionally, while poor attendance and weak communication affect many clubs on campus, in the context of affinity groups, these shortcomings take on sharper consequences. Missed meetings or inconsistent leadership can weaken opportunities for productive exchange, as when a group with low turnout becomes a small circle of the same three or four students, repeating familiar conversations. In these cases, belonging is reduced to optics: who shows up, who is seen supporting, who can claim credibility from being associated with a particular group. This transforms affinity groups into spaces where appearance takes precedence over substance. This “performative allyship” encourages the practice of shallow cultural empathy; individuals aren’t exposed to the necessary practice of listening to perspectives unlike their own and building cross-identity friendships. At best, the loop allows actual inequities, such as microaggressions, disparities in dorm life, or unequal leadership opportunities, to go unaddressed. At worst, it underscores the divide between students who live and breathe these identifications day in and day out and those who merely “appear” out of convenience.
While some sensitive discussions around race, gender, or sexuality exist in spaces like Empathy, Balance, and Inclusion (EBI), they are too frequently limited to designated programs rather than becoming part of everyday conversations in dorms, advisories, or informal student life. And of course, not every space needs to revolve around identity. Still, when dialogue happens only in set-aside forums, it limits the chance for those lessons to carry into the broader community. Affinity groups aim to provide safe spaces for individuals to share their vulnerability. Yet, the research suggests that the conversations affinity groups are designed to encourage may thrive most in diverse, mixed settings. Princeton University found that students who frequently interact with diverse peers show greater gains in critical thinking, problem-solving, and general knowledge than those who remain in a homogeneous group. While affinity groups aim to promote cultural understanding, the research suggests that true “understanding” flourishes most in integrated spaces, not identity-based sectors. By isolating conversations that thrive in diverse spaces, they weaken both individual growth and the collective strength of the Andover community.
Non-affinity spaces that celebrate culture, such as AfLatAm and even the K-Pop group, are the real stars of the show as they resist isolation by sharing their traditions and experiences with the entire community, while still being open to all. School-wide dialogue programs, cross-identity forums, and even stronger integration of identity and culture into curriculum or dorm programming are better ways to take advantage of our “intentionally diverse” community. For instance, many schools offer “Intergroup Dialogue” programs, pairing students from different backgrounds to discuss topics such as privilege or discrimination. Andover could be more proactive in adapting these intergroup conversations, creating student groups like the Interfaith Council that features a student from every major religion on campus. Even smaller dorm traditions can foster the campus culture of welcoming these conversations. At Fuess House, during every dorm meeting, a student is selected to share their culture with the dorm community, essentially celebrating the culture that expands minds and understanding, a goal that the affinity groups on campus also attempt to achieve. They may share the meaning of their flag or how their cultural food makes them feel. In doing so, they invite their peers not just to learn about a tradition but to step into the emotions, pride, and memories that shape their identity.
Andover’s affinity groups inadvertently hinder discussion and dialogue among the diverse communities we have on campus. True belonging at Andover doesn’t come from dividing ourselves into smaller groups; it comes from learning how to sit together, even in discomfort, and growing as one community.
