It’s Day 5, and I’m walking out of school at 1:00 p.m. The sun hits my face as I step off campus, and the air feels fresh. I have the whole afternoon ahead of me, and I can do whatever I want. Maybe I’ll get lunch with friends, take the long way home with music blasting or just crash on the couch with a book before even thinking about homework. There’s no rush, no pressure. Just freedom. On days like this, I feel more like a real person than just a student moving from class to class. So when I opened the March edition of The Chronicle and saw the headline about the new 2025–2026 Upper School schedule, my stomach dropped. Those early dismissals and little moments of peace and possibility are being taken away. In the administration’s bid to fix the student and teacher experience, they’ve forgotten what really makes my day enjoyable.
Under the new schedule, Community Time and Conference Time will be moved to 9:20 a.m., right after the first class of the day. Other blocks will be moved accordingly, meaning students will not be able to leave before 2 p.m on any given day of the cycle. The new structure is designed to limit students’ ability to leave early in order to encourage more on-campus interaction and more all-school events, according to Head of Upper School Beth Slattery. It also aims to reduce the pressure on teachers to meet with students during lunch and to allow for a more standard lunchtime. While these goals are admirable, the unintended consequences of this shift deserve serious consideration.
One of the main concerns is the removal of flexibility. Under the current schedule, on odd days, students without a Directed Study can leave campus once they finish their last class of the day. For many, this has been an important time to recharge or catch up on work.. The new schedule removes that option by moving non-academic blocks to earlier in the day, ensuring that students remain on campus longer. While that may create more structure, it limits student autonomy. Leaving school early does not inherently take away from our community. If anything, it alleviates stress and offers students structured times during the week to spend time with their friends off campus.
There’s also the question of how effective a change in timing will really be in fostering connection. While scheduling more events during Community Time may result in a greater all-school presence, it doesn’t guarantee engagement. Community isn’t built by requiring everyone to be in the same place at the same time. In fact, over-scheduling can have the opposite effect: student disengagement.
The school has a limited amount of time and energy to dedicate to community-building, and how that time is spent matters. If the goal is to strengthen our sense of connection, it makes more sense to invest in smaller communities that already exist and thrive. Expecting forced events, fairs, or assemblies to magically create unity is more idealistic than realistic. In reality, students benefit more when they’re given space to develop their own friendships. Classes already provide opportunities to meet new people, but time with close friends is far more rare, and far more valuable.
Optional school-wide events, on the other hand, tend to foster genuine community because they attract students who actually want to be there. The energy in those spaces is different because students come intentionally. Students who feel connected to the community will engage with it on their own. But no schedule, no matter how well-intentioned, can manufacture that feeling. Forcing participation will not inspire the apathetic; it will only make those moments feel like another obligation.
Additionally, academic learning will be impacted by these changes. Student-athletes, who often have to leave school early for travel and competitions, will be missing academic class time rather than the non-academic blocks. Though the administration acknowledges this potential downside, they claim that student-athletes would be missing out on non-academic opportunities regardless. It is unfair for the administration to equate missing non-academic blocks to missing academic blocks. Students who miss academic blocks are forced to spend time on classwork alongside homework and make up missed tests, exacerbating stress.
One of the few seemingly positive changes in the revised schedule is the shift in lunch from 10:45 to 11:15. This is beneficial as eating lunch mid-morning has felt abnormal to many students. While this adjustment is welcome, it’s not enough to outweigh what’s being lost. Fixing an oddly timed lunch does not justify a complete overhaul of our schedule that removes early dismissals and limits student autonomy. A better lunch period is nice, but it’s not worth sacrificing the balance that the current schedule provides.
The schedule change also stems partly from teacher feedback that their lunchtime is often cut short by students seeking help. While it’s important to support our faculty, the solution may not lie in restructuring the day entirely. Teachers already have the ability to set boundaries around their lunch periods, and most students are more than willing to accommodate those boundaries. In fact, many faculty members already maintain designated office hours, some of which can be scheduled in advance online. Expanding or formalizing these scheduling systems could offer a targeted solution, allowing students to get the help they need while preserving teachers’ downtime.
If the administration is willing to respond to teacher feedback, students should have been given a more active role in the rescheduling process. Even Prefect Council was not actively involved in the creation of the schedule and were only asked about it when it had been proposed and approved. Any decision that significantly reshapes the school day should be informed not only by scheduling professionals at Independent School Management (ISM) but also by the student experience. A meaningful community is one in which students feel heard, not just controlled.
There is no perfect schedule, and any change is bound to come with trade-offs. But the answer to logistical or engagement challenges shouldn’t be an entire upheaval of our schedule. Systems for scheduling teacher meetings, clearer communication around lunch boundaries, and voluntary community events could all address current concerns without sacrificing flexibility or autonomy. A schedule built to foster connection must also reflect trust in students and respect for their time. If the goal is to build a stronger, more inclusive community, the process should start by including students in the decisions that shape their daily lives.
