In my freshman year, Andover seemed like a utopia — flawless in its academic curriculum, infinite in its different opportunities, and trailblazing in its diversity within the American high school system. New students and faculty alike go through a similar experience as they enter the school. Throughout the admissions process and the first few weeks, students are bombarded with information about what “makes Andover so great,” from its array of extracurricular options to its polished athletic facilities. We are often told that we were “chosen,” and almost indoctrinated to practice gratitude for the opportunity to study at a high school that gets thousands of applicants every year. Although Andover is indeed a special place for many, the continued practice of glorification has limited the improvement of our community. Legitimate concerns are brushed off as petty complaints before their significance can even be considered. To combat this stagnation, members of our community have the responsibility to critique Andover and call out questionable aspects of our institutional history, policy decisions, and campus culture.
The Andover community is led to believe that our privileges discourage us from challenging the institution that grants them. Compared to most American public schools, Andover does have significantly better facilities and a heightened awareness of diversity, equity, and inclusion. Accordingly, in the context of such financial and cultural advantages, critical comments are seen as ungrateful. For instance, when students point out the lack of representation of Black and Hispanic students on campus, many respond by noting that our community is significantly more diverse than many other schools. When students address the inconveniences associated with the newly adopted school policies, many reply that we should be grateful rather than complaining. Likewise, the chain of “privilege” has prevented us from properly addressing issues that affect student lives and beyond.
Andover is far from perfect; rather, its centuries of accumulated privileges mean the institution has often profited from unjust systems and cultures that remain evident today. Students’ willingness to actively call out the administrative and institutional failures has led to significant improvements in our campus culture. Andover’s long and complex institutional ties to slavery are just one example. Samuel Phillips, the founder of the Academy, owned slaves as late as 1835, and “in 1835, 50 Phillips Academy students were expelled for participating in anti-slavery meetings.” Andover Center for History and Culture further notes that many students at Phillips Academy were the sons of southern slave-holders. In response to such atrocities, Andover students gathered in 1835 to advocate for “the full, immediate emancipation of the one-sixth of Americans living in slavery,” a radical idea at the time. Although Andover Theological Seminary forced these student groups to disband, abolitionists like William Lloyd Garrison persistently scheduled a series of anti-slavery lectures to educate the community. Such efforts of standing against the administration paved the way for Andover to become one of the most diverse high schools in the United States today, championing DEI in our community.
To this day, the status of our campus further deserves to be critiqued and re-examined. Mental health of the students in the so-called “pressure cooker” environment has been called into attention frequently over the past few years, yet counseling services still remain heavily stigmatized among students. Importantly, the toxic culture of competition has caused many students to doubt their self-worth, and at times feel disadvantaged by each other’s successes. Furthermore, even an issue as “trivial” as the food delivery policy or the designation of Head of School Day affect students’ quality of life on a daily basis.
All said, what can students do to help improve our imperfect school tainted with deeply rooted cultural and policy-level problems? The most crucial step in making improvements is to acknowledge that critique can be an expression of gratitude. It is our responsibility to learn the past wrongs embedded in our school’s history, call out the mistakes of our administration, and voice concerns derived from newly established policies. Merely glorifying Andover is not a responsible way to engage with our community, because that feeds into the continued cycle of stagnation.
Importantly, students are in a unique position to provide helpful critiques to the school. Adults are inevitably bound more by professional status and socioeconomic relations. Students can therefore articulate criticisms that adult community members may feel unable to voice, while also contributing perspectives unique to the student experience. This relative freedom confers upon us a particular responsibility to raise our concerns within the community.
All in all, dear students just beginning their Andover journey, remember that your love for Andover also calls for your critiques. As you explore everything that makes Andover great, remember to stop and question. We have a lot to improve on, and we cannot do that if we cease to criticize. Tough love makes complete love, and Andover needs that from you now.
