Villeage Voices: The Myth of the “Typical Lawrentian”

By Eli Lacey ‘25 

Eli Lacey ’25 served as Lawrenceville School student body president during the 2024-25 school year. In his final School Meeting address, Lacey challenged the notion of the “Typical Lawrentian.”

As I stand up here for what will be the last time, I wanted to share more about my Lawrenceville journey. At this point in the year, you all have seen me at Smeeting [School Meeting] and around campus, and so you all have a good sense of who I am. But today I wanted to share something that most of you don't know about me. Because the person standing at this podium wasn’t always this way. And for those of you who have been here since the start, you know I didn't always make the best decisions. During the fall of my sophomore year, a bad decision led me to receive a Major Rule violation.

Getting a Major was the most difficult experience I’ve ever gone through—but also the most important. Because through that challenge, I learned what this place is truly about.

The first obstacle came when I had to call my parents. They never expected that type of phone call, and for the first couple seconds all they could do was sit in silence. Though I was hundreds of miles away from them, I could still feel their hurt through the phone.

But my parents weren’t the only ones who were upset—I was upset with myself. My disappointment led me to believe I could never live up to a true Lawrentian, and that somehow, someway, the admission officers in Mackenzie had made a big mistake.

But I remembered something a faculty member told me that day: Not to let this mistake define me. And so with those words in mind, I began the slow process of rebuilding.

It started with looking inward. I had to ask myself how I got there. The truth was, I rarely thought about how my decisions would affect others and myself. But I learned that the choices you make in an instant can have outcomes that last a lifetime.

The next thing I learned was the value of support.

When I first got in trouble, I didn’t want anyone to know. This secrecy came from a place of fear—fear of what people would think, what they’d say. I didn’t tell anybody, not even my closest friends.

But one night in the basement of Pop [Hall], I was working on a video journalism project when I saw Andrew Boanoh ’23 walking down the hall. He walked into the room I was in and gave me a hug. And in that moment, something shifted. Even though I was still hurting, I felt less alone.

That simple gesture reminded me I didn’t have to carry this by myself. There were friends and adults alike, ready to help if I just let them. So, I started leaning on those around me. And when I did, I was able to pick myself back up.

But even with that progress, one last hurdle remained—one that every person in this room has faced at some point. That hurdle is the myth of the “typical Lawrentian.”

This "typical Lawrentian" is the voice in your head that tells you how you ought to be. It tells you that you can’t make mistakes. It tricks you into measuring your worth solely by achievements, and convinces you to perform a version of yourself that isn’t always authentic

But I’m here to tell you: that version of the “typical Lawrentian” does not exist.

Because if you look back over this school’s 200-year history and the thousands of students who have passed through these halls, not one of them was a “typical Lawrentian.” Some were gifted athletes, some were brilliant artists, and others were stellar students. But every one of them struggled. Every one of them had moments where they questioned whether they belonged.

And that’s exactly what I’ve come to understand since sophomore year. Those moments of failure don’t disqualify you from being a Lawrentian, instead, they are the very thing that makes us who we are. Because Lawrenceville has never been about perfection. It’s always been about transformation.

This year, I’ve tried to lead with authenticity—not just as your president, but as a fellow student walking this journey with you. I didn’t want to be a symbol of perfection. I wanted to be real.

My story, like all of yours, is a testament to what the Lawrenceville experience is truly about: becoming better today than you were yesterday.

Not just in the classroom or on the field, but as a person.

And so, as I say goodbye, I hope you remember that your worth is not found in how flawless your path is, but in how far you’ve come, and how bravely you’ve walked it.

Thank you all so much for just being who you are. I love you all and will miss you and this place very much. Thank you.

For more information, contact Lisa M. Gillard H'17, director of public relations, at lgillard@lawrenceville.org.