There's More to This Than Snacks
By TMP Editorial Board
This Monday, September 16, Asian Society, Tang, and Astronomy Club hosted a celebration of the Mid-Autumn Festival, a seasonal observance in nine East Asian countries. Initially intended as a rolling, ambient event providing crafts, stargazing, and—yes—snacks over the course of an hour, the Mid-Autumn Festival unfortunately left the clubs’ coheads swamped by a stampede of boba-hungry students. Deaf to most warnings and instructions, the crowd surged around the central picnic table, at one point shoving one person onto the bench. A number of people snatched drinks from the table and promptly abandoned the event, ignoring the very purpose of the gathering: to learn and to appreciate. Most student organizations understand that snacks boost student participation (and poor management plays a part, of course), but discarding the cultural value of an event to abuse the food options available is a new, venal low for Milton’s student body.
From the dismal state of the Stu to the death of (non-food-related) event attendance, we’re seeing a kind of collective rejection of restraint and common sense. Since when has self-discipline been seen as something to avoid?
We all know what it’s like to squirm in all school meetings and grumble about the bleachers. Nonetheless, we shouldn't be too hasty to accept our avoidance of boredom, effort, and ‘unwanted’ activities as righteous. We don't have to love everything we’re presented with, but if we show up for only ourselves, how are we expected to be a community? It seems that Milton students have lost their ethos of duty and discipline—to the extent to which we ever had one.
As sedative as those Stoic values may sound, they echo a key shortcoming of the Milton student body: we strive for excellence but struggle with the bare minimum. If you don’t like a guest speaker or don’t care about moon gazing, that’s fine. Not everything is about you. But the least you can do is have decorum.
Case in point: unauthorized phone use now represents a tongue-in-cheek form of ‘resistance’ to the expectation of decency. Ten years ago, we were staging school-wide sit-ins against racism. Could you imagine today’s Milton doing anything of the sort? Mass resistance to listening, understanding, and participating cheapens the power of young people at Milton to comment on genuine injustice, which requires moving beyond the frame of personal empowerment and into the realm of service. We need to confront for ourselves what obligations we have to ourselves and each other; rebellion for the sake of rebellion isn’t doing Milton students any favors.
It’s impossible not to wonder whether or not these issues are simply a product of high school immaturity or a sign of a regressing Milton student culture. Regardless, the idea of a graduating class (or four) that can’t sit still for an hour-long meeting paints a dismal picture of our prospects on Wall Street and beyond.
Why are we here? Maybe there’s a glib answer: "Because my parents sent me here.”“So I can get into college.” We must push past these easy truths and consider what it means to want to show up—because this place has so much more to offer than just the letters on your essays, or the numbers on your test papers.
And maybe you think this is all "just" high school. After all, no one can make Milton matter to you. Just know that there are people here who share the most precious pieces of themselves every day, who try to build something special with every new event or activity they initiate. The fundamental respect we give each other should never be conditional or halfhearted.
Opting out of good citizenship won’t make assemblies shorter, political realities less terrifying, classes easier, or college applications less daunting. Remember, we gain nothing from feeding into diminished versions of ourselves. Plus, self-absorbed, indifferent private school kids who can’t clean up after themselves are already a cliché.
We can do better.