Though I find it rather cringe-inducing now, I distinctly remember writing my Choate application essay about wanting to “broaden my horizons” and “take advantage of all the different opportunities offered” at Choate — you know, the classic drivel that eighth-graders write in attempt to impress admission officers. Still, at the time, I truly believed that I would expand my horizons at Choate. I wanted to try new things, meet new people, and take new classes. I wanted to dabble in robotics, play some squash, and maybe even take a dance class.
However, I soon realized that at Choate, dabbling in various activities and subjects is not commonly accepted within the culture. From an extracurricular standpoint at least, Choate is a place where the good go to get better — not to try new things. Often, students only pursue what they are already good at in hopes of using these talents to boost their college resumés. Students become so caught up with padding the extracurricular section of the Common Application that they lose sight of the diverse opportunities offered at Choate. When the time one spends on campus is used solely as a stepping stone to college, the opportunities offered at Choate can’t be fully appreciated.
I’ve always loved basketball and always will. When I was younger, I would watch in awe as my brother dribbled up our driveway. Since then, my dream has been to play in the NBA. However, as my years at Choate have gone by, I have been less inclined to spend time on the court. As a 5’4’’ freshman, there was never a moment when I felt confident in my decision to play basketball at Choate. I was told both implicitly and explicitly that my participation in the sport was a “waste of time.” If I wanted to practice, I rarely could — open court time is almost always reserved for the varsity team. Slowly, I let my basketball dreams rot away and turned my attention to things that “actually mattered” — things that I was good at, like cross country.
I don’t think I’m the only one who has experienced this kind of defeat. Frankly, this toxic culture reveals itself the moment students step foot on campus. In the opening days of freshman year, students hear all kinds of talk about each person’s “thing”: “She’s a math genius,” somebody says, or, “He’s a theater kid.” Before you’ve even begun to explore the many possibilities at Choate, you’re labeled and confined. You find yourself zeroed in on excelling in one or two areas — a sport, an academic subject, art — and before you know it, you’ve forgone all the opportunities, events, and paths that make Choate special.
So, here’s my advice: when you find yourself feeling restrained by external expectations, ask yourself “Why did I come to Choate?” Where else can you do research in the Kohler Environmental Center during the day and learn jiu-jitsu at night? So often, we focus so solely on what’s been placed in front of us — this essay, this monologue, this free throw — that we lose sight of the vast possibilities all around us.
