Last week, I went to a mentor meal, expecting awkward small talk with my marketing class. Instead, I ended up hearing a classmate refer to their roommate as something truly original: non-human. This person listed their roommate's defining habits as never sleeping, always working, and only caring about women. Everyone laughed, and it became quickly apparent to everyone at the table: being non-human wasn’t an insult, it was a compliment.
What struck me about the compliment wasn’t just how bluntly it was said, but how uniquely Penn-like it sounded. As spring semester ends and the spring season finally begins, Penn students are going to start cramming for finals, partying harder than ever, and trading their school work for their internship work. This painful cycle never ceases to repeat itself, but even as we criticize its existence, why are we so reluctant to let it go?
I have learned that busyness at Penn is not merely a state of being; it’s an art form perfected throughout the eight semesters we have to make our marks. Maybe it sounds dramatic, but we all have that one friend. They’re president of a club, a board member of the rest, and a good student at the same time. You might pretend like you simply admire their ability to go above their limits, but from what I’ve learned, it isn’t admiration. It’s jealousy.
These are usually the same people who never sleep, never eat, and always brag about it. We praise these kinds of students for their willingness to sacrifice their base human needs. But at the same time, we’re grudging over the fact that some of us need more than 5 hours of sleep to interact with a world outside of working and drinking. More than one person has admitted to me they wish they didn’t have to shower. What this entire experience has shown me is that Penn students believe that in order to meet their potential, they have to give up their humanity.
It might sound cynical or bitter, but I see everyone scrolling on LinkedIn in their classes as they hover over profiles that don’t belong to them. I see students applying to way more organizations than they can keep up with and many of which they frankly don’t care about. It doesn’t even matter how many hours that organization might demand because usually, they’re going to put way less time into it than they initially promised.
I would argue that this system is not born out of a literal desire to be successful. It is not just about the high salaries we’re told we can earn or the lessons we could learn from such demanding experiences. You might be used to working hard, but coming to Penn is a different experience. When we’ve all experienced personal excellence, the only way to move beyond is to stop caring about the work itself and care more about the appearance of working.
It is true that some students work differently where they can rest far less than most people and still function properly. And yes, they might seem to work at a level that we deem more efficient and productive than the rest of us can stand individually. But if working at this level can be unsustainable for most, I want you to ask yourself: is it possible you don’t want to succeed, you just want to be more successful than the person next to you?
I’ve been down this rabbit hole many times before, suffering silently so my self-constructed image doesn’t. Even when life got in the way, I was determined to keep going. In high school, it felt like being successful was the main goal, but in college, it’s just to suffer enough that nobody can deny it.
Ironically, we just had Wellness Week at Penn: a week-long series of events encouraging students to maximize their well-being. But there is no wellness seminar powerful enough if you’re determined to sacrifice every enjoyable aspect of your life for social clout. Everyone knows life isn’t perfect, but don’t ignore yourself in some feeble attempt to convince everybody that your life is.
There is nothing wrong with being ambitious or diligent, but you should be motivated for the right reasons. Ultimately, nobody is going to give you a prize for pulling all-nighters or skipping breakfast for coffee. Your needs are meant to be fulfilled and your feelings demand to be felt. Stop hating yourself for being human; it’s the best trait you have.
LINDSAY MUNETON is a College junior studying sociology from Bergenfield, NJ. Her email address is lmuneton@sas.upenn.edu.
