The opinions expressed in The Lawrentian are those of the students, faculty and community members who wrote them. The Lawrentian does not endorse any opinions piece except for the staff editorial, which represents a majority of the editorial board. The Lawrentian welcomes everyone to submit their own opinions. For the full editorial policy and parameters for submitting articles, please refer to the about section.
I’m not exaggerating when I say that last Spring Term was the busiest my life has been so far. For the first time, I was taking 24 coursework units instead of the standard 18, and six of them were in Research Methods in Political Science, which involved enough complex formulas to remind me why I never considered majoring in math. (Shoutout to Professor Hixon and all my study buddies who helped me somehow grind my way through this course.) At the same time, my first term as Vice President of Lawrence University Community Council kicked off with a grueling budget review process and a crash course in leadership. As a board member and president-in-training for Pan-Asian Organization, the month of May revolved around programming for Asian-American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month. Many of the friends who’d been with me since my first year were graduating in June, and I felt a strange panic as I realized that the people who’d guided me through the start of this chapter of my life would no longer be here to support me as I entered the second half of my college journey. With all those new changes and responsibilities, I was eager to spend the summer doing absolutely nothing.
However, the first two weeks of summer somehow left me feeling more burned out than I had ever felt during the academic year. I initially hoped that my new, unstructured schedule would allow me to allocate more time for self-care and wellness — during the school year, I was used to spending over 80 hours a week following a strict schedule of classes, jobs, meetings and homework — but with no classes, clubs or close friends around, my life felt suddenly empty. Most of the other students on campus were doing intensive summer research projects, but since no opportunities were offered in my majors, I ended up working a series of jobs that were pleasant but had little to do with my career goals or interests. After months of waiting for a break, all I felt was boredom.
My motivation didn’t return until August, when I started a new position as a Head Advising Fellow for the nonprofit organization Matriculate, an educational equity program that empowers first-generation and low-income students through the college application process through peer mentoring. Suddenly, I was back in the rhythm of writing agendas, drafting emails, scheduling meetings and communicating with team members. For the first time in months, I had a clear vision of what I wanted to achieve every day, and I felt reinvigorated as I headed into the new school year.
We often frame self-care as a break from the daily grind because we perceive work and joy as mutually exclusive. However, this summer made me appreciate how much I actually love what I do, even when it is difficult. Sure, my color-coded Outlook calendar resembles a Tetris game, and sometimes my strict schedule prevents me from attending events or hanging out with friends as much as I would like to. But I wouldn’t trade my busy, fulfilling life for more free time; in fact, my limited availability makes me even more appreciative of the time I do spend outside of school, work, and meetings. As I head into my junior year, my goal is not to create more free time, but rather to fill every minute with activities that enhance my quality of life.