Staff Writer- Mary Athorp

Call me a hypocrite. (“You’re a hypocrite, Mary!”) Perfect. Since we’ve established that I am, in fact, a hypocrite, I will go ahead and be one.

Hopefully, you’ve heard the term “overinvolved Gustie”. In case you haven’t, let me provide a brief definition. An “overinvolved Gustie” refers to a Gustavus student heavily involved in campus proceedings. Generally, these “proceedings” allow the Gustie to assume a myriad of identities on campus, whether it be an athlete, environmental activist, politician, or event coordinator — the list is limitless. When someone uses this statement to describe themselves, they often say it in a cheerful yet reluctant manner. Still, it is usually accompanied by a forced and somewhat painful chuckle, as they realize that their life is merely a muted progression of one responsibility to the next.

Whew, that’s a mouthful. The definition that I’ve concocted is chaotic, but so is the life of an “overinvolved Gustie.” I am becoming all too familiar with this chaos, which isn’t to say that my life hasn’t been chaotic before, just that this Gustavus chaos is leaving somewhat of a bitter taste in my mouth.

The “Gustavus” part isn’t the problem. In fact, I have nothing but good things to say about the opportunities offered by the campus – they promise that Gusties can do it all if they want to, and from personal experience, this is indeed true. It is a wonderful thing that I can be a leader in multiple student organizations, have a double major, and write for the newspaper…

…what’s causing me confusion is that it doesn’t always feel wonderful.

Being busy is a quintessential part of society, particularly in American culture. We are taught from birth that the road to success is measured by how many tasks we can complete by the end of the day. Productivity is currency when it comes down to it. You earn more money when you accomplish more. You gain more success if you put in more hours. You are more well-known if you can weasel your way into various sectors of life. These expectations are only amplified when the competitive norms of the educational system come into play. We could discuss the college application process—a compilation of everything you’ve ever done that was meaningful, compiled onto a list, and serving as your identity to admission officers. We can consider our automated email signatures. “Maybe it’s just me, but I feel a sense of accomplishment when I can add something beyond,” Senior Mary Athorp said. “The hope [is] that whoever would read my email would be impressed by the extensive list of things that Mary Athorp is.” We could talk about a lot of things, but what we aren’t talking about is whether this is actually how things should be.

Neurologically speaking, we are not created to be a wind-up toy that just keeps on spinning. We have the capacity to wind up and spin for some time, but eventually, we have to stop. Our prefrontal cortex (PFC)—the most advanced brain region we have—is responsible for selective attention, mental shifting, and forming mental representations. This means that our PFC chooses what to focus on, changes our focus, and retains information that helps us understand what to focus on at a given moment. It’s an incredible mechanism, but it literally cannot work under stress. Think of it like a person in a wave pool. One or two waves are entirely manageable. However, as more waves come, the person can only tread water for so long before they become exhausted and can’t tread water anymore. That is how our PFC is wired.

And yet, we are stuck in this exhaustive loop, beckoning wave after wave to hit us.

We live in a world of subconscious expectations. Someone, somewhere, over the course of history, decided that productivity had to look a certain way—that success had to look a certain way, and since then, society has just gone with it. It’s almost as if our brains weigh the pros and cons of social discomfort and mental discomfort, and we choose mental discomfort every time. Social discomfort appears to be more detrimental to us both in the short and the long run, as does not living up to the subconscious expectations offered up by this world.

Now, time to be a hypocrite. I can criticize the overinvolved culture all I want. I could go on and on about how it’s bad for us and how it’s irrational and silly, but I’m still going to go to several student organization meetings this afternoon and then stay up until the wee hours of the morning working on who knows what. The question, in my mind, is no longer “why is this happening?” but “how do we stop?” How do we reframe the subconscious expectations in our mind that tell us this is what life has to be? How do we stop faking the cheerful intonation of “I’m an overinvolved Gustie” and find the value in just being a Gustie?

Truth is, I’m not sure. Remember, I’m just a hypocrite. But I am willing to let the bitter taste linger for just a while longer, and maybe something will come from it. I challenge you to let it linger too.