It’s 2:28 a.m. on a Thursday, and the glow of a laptop screen illuminates the stack of crumpled note sheets and half-drunk Celsius cans on your bedside table. You stare blankly at your AP Biology textbook, unable to retain any more information as the words blur together. You study for another hour, and then finally lay down for a quick four-hour nap before school. It’s nothing unusual. Tomorrow, you’ll walk into school with a forced smile smeared across your face, caffeine being the only thing allowing you to function.
Stevenson thrives on a culture of merit, where success isn’t just encouraged, it’s expected. Walk through the halls, and you’re immediately struck by the overwhelming presence of success. Walls are lined with state championships, gleaming trophies, and plaques honoring all-star athletes. The Daily Digest continuously showcases students who have won prestigious academic or athletic competitions, or the club members that are placing at state and national level competitions.
Stevenson must do better to celebrate everyday successes. Where is the recognition for the student who, for the first time in weeks, allowed themselves to go to sleep before midnight? Where is the celebration for the student who made the heartbreaking choice to step down from a leadership role, not out of failure but out of self-preservation? Where is the honorable mention for the student who missed practice because they finally had the courage to sit down with their Student Support Team (SST) and get the help they needed?
Statesman sees the costs of pursuing perfection; with AP classes, leadership, clubs, and sports, students are trapped in an impossible situation. We are told to take care of ourselves, push through stress, make friendly competition, and secure our future. But you simply can’t do everything, and so, the masking begins.
From an early age, kids are taught that being a “good student” is presenting yourself in a way that reassures others. Kindergarten classrooms often display laminated charts illustrating the “correct” way to sit or walk, while behavior charts publicly track mistakes, moving students from green to yellow to red for even a minor misstep. End Seclusion, a platform focused on advocating for safer and more inclusive schools, explains that behavior charts can cause anxiety, shame, and loss of motivation for children. Even at five years old, the fear and self-consciousness of being looked down upon or judged by peers instilled a need to meet expectations and appear disciplined. These early fears don’t disappear as students grow older, in fact, they only evolve. By high school, students have mastered the art of presenting themselves as polished and high-achieving, while suppressing the growing stress and pressure they face every single day.
According to the American Psychological Association, 31 percent of teens reported feeling overwhelmed as a result of stress. However, this statistic is not openly acknowledged, as Statesman notices a stigma around admitting that you’re struggling. This phenomenon is often referred to as the Stanford Duck Syndrome, a term used to describe how students appear to be gliding smoothly on the surface, yet underneath they are desperately paddling just to stay afloat.
Stevenson’s Portrait of a Graduate enforces that students should “pursue a balanced high school experience,” but what does that really mean when “balance” is constantly destabilized by the weight of expectations placed on students? Balance implies an even distribution of work and rest, or challenge and ease, yet at Stevenson, the rigor is so normalized that stress is often glorified, and this “balance” becomes unattainable.
To put things into perspective, the workload many Stevenson students take on often exceeds that of college students. In college, students typically take four to five classes spread across the week, along with homework, extracurricular activities, part-time jobs, and necessary time to reset. However, at Stevenson, students are juggling seven classes—many of them being “college-level” courses—every single day, on top of everything listed previously. Statesman argues that success is often measured by tangible results and that external validation pushes people to the limit.
Worse, exhaustion is a badge of honor. In a survey done by YaleNews, the most common emotion students reported, at 58 percent, was tiredness. Conversations have shifted to revolve around who stayed up the latest, who studied the longest, how everyone is studying for the next test, the struggle is glorified. Statesman calls for Stevenson to push harder to recognize that achievement isn’t a one-size-fits-all concept. Today’s phrase is “on the grind,” yet we must remember that not every student must “be on the grind” in the same manner.
Addressing the culture of burnout is the first step towards meaningful change. While discussions surrounding mental health have become more prevalent in recent years, the current approach, such as the SOS presentation in advisories, or the occasional emails encouraging students to seek help, feel like first steps. While these efforts are well-intentioned, Statesman is confident that we must work harder to foster a culture where conversations about mental health are ongoing and honest, not just a one and done conversation. A key part of this is helping students to understand that struggling is not a sign of weakness.
To create this change in the school environment, Statesman calls educators to implement discussions and lessons regarding time management, how to choose what to prioritize, and setting boundaries. Too often, people don’t know how to navigate a big number of commitments, especially as a teenager. According to Key Healthcare, 55 percent of high school students report experiencing stress due to struggles with time management. By providing strategies on how to balance effectively, Stevenson can equip students with the necessary skills to thrive, without compromising their well-being. Also, students should work harder to take full advantage of existing resources, such as study halls, free periods, PWC workout classes, support groups, and office hours, to help manage their responsibilities more effectively.
Additionally, as a society we need to broaden our idea of success. The world doesn’t need more students who follow the “path,” ace the AP exams, secure the most prestigious internships, and graduate from an Ivy League. What the world truly needs more of are the thinkers, the builders, the visionaries, the people who can find purpose beyond the ordinary expectations. You don’t “succeed” at Stevenson any more or any less based on the amount of extracurriculars or AP classes you are committed to, and we must work harder to remember that.
Statesman believes the SST is arguably the most significant resource available to struggling students, however, the reality is that there is a significant disconnect between what is offered and what students truly feel comfortable to use. In some ways, the SST is like a safety net. It seems to be able to “catch” all problems, but in reality, it feels impersonal and inaccessible. According to the Illinois Report card, the ratio of students to school counselors is 1-to-207, and 457 per social worker. Statesman notices that as a result, when crisis arises, students are far less likely to reach out to someone they have met only two or three times in their entire high school career, and instead, do nothing.
If Stevenson truly wants to create an environment where mental health support is more than just a concept, Statesman recommends working to rebuild trust and individual relationships between students and their SST members. This means reducing the student-to-counselor ratio, and implementing structured biannual check-ins, where counselors initiate conversations rather than waiting for students to reach out in times of crisis. Counselors should be integrated into students’ daily life, rather than a resource that students hear about a few times a year. Stevenson must recognize that resources alone do not equate to real change, but ensuring students are seen, heard, and supported does.
Stevenson students, can we come together and decide that success isn’t worth sacrificing our well-being? Exhaustion should not be a requirement for achievement, we must start being honest with ourselves and with each other. Regularly check in with yourself, acknowledge when you’re overwhelmed, and remember that success isn’t about doing everything at once. We must set priorities, break tasks into manageable steps, and let go of the pressure to be perfect in every area. If a friend is struggling, don’t brush it off with a joke, listen, support them, and help create an environment with a more sustainable definition of success.
We are currently at risk of creating a generation that excels at everything except taking care of themselves. Stevenson students and faculty have the opportunity to redefine success, not as a relentless pursuit of achievement, but as a balance between self-preservation and ambition. Let’s stop glorifying burnout as the price of excellence. Let’s stop valuing students for materialistic accomplishments over who they are. With this in mind, we have the potential of creating an environment where students can reach their full potential, while preserving their health, happiness, and sense of self.
