On Saturday, while in search of something edible at Pret a Manger, I was disappointed to find out that it was closed. The reason, I soon learned, was that a student threw up during a coffee chat. After my surprise and worry subsided, I wondered, why didn’t they cancel if they felt sick?

This is just one example of the toxic “workaholic” culture that is synonymous with Penn. It’s the kind of culture that makes someone prioritize a networking opportunity over their health. And it seems as if it’s every undergraduate’s goal to adopt it. From the hundreds of student organizations to weekly networking events, many of us first years have felt overwhelmed with the urge to engage in everything the University has to offer. Although part of the education we receive in college is gained through experience, it can be damaging to pack our schedules for the sake of being busy — or rather, “LARPing” busy.

When I use the term “LARPing busy,” I’m referring to a greater phenomenon of students spreading themselves thin, pretending to do more than we actually are. The term LARPer refers to “someone pretending to be something they’re really not.” It’s almost as if people are competing with their peers for a first-place medal in “Least Amount of Free Time.” In my first month at Penn, I observed everyone rush to join as many clubs as possible, coffee chat every member of a board, and attend every Wharton School recruiting event. Yet only a few of us can say we’re doing it out of genuine interest. Besides taking advantage of Penn’s opportunities, I can think of several other reasons for this impulse for “busyness.”

LARPers are under pressure. As David Bowie famously wrote, it’s the “terror of knowing what this world is about.” We experience this worldly pressure heavily at one of the best universities in the United States. With this comes a vicious competition among classmates and an exploitation of our personal energy stores. We strive to be the most successful and the most involved. Instead of spending time finding a balance between hobbies and career goals, we pack our schedules seeking prestige — because here, busyness is associated with eminence. To be the perfect Ivy League student and succumb to the pressure of becoming one is to be busy. Eventually, this drive transcends our innate needs to find community, to create, and to spend time doing what we actually enjoy. The poor soul whose coffee chat went awry might be experiencing the most pressure out of all of us.

LARPers quantify success. Many of us view success at this point in our undergraduate career as acquiring the most LinkedIn connections and as many board positions as possible. You work in one research lab? That’s cool, but how many colors does your Google Calendar have? What about your college decision Instagram post analytics? 

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Evidently, many Penn students, including myself, have adopted the mindset of attributing success to being busy. LARPing busy is more about how much you appear to be doing than your genuine contribution to each project. This mindset is dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Wellbeing becomes a later priority, and we reconcile bad habits with accomplishment. We should be asking ourselves: how much effort are we putting into our extracurriculars? Does it have a meaningful impact, or are we polluting our Sundays with useless meetings? 

At the core of “LARPing busy” is a struggle to prioritize. If this feels like a personal attack, it probably is. But I’ve been there too. I’ve observed that those with stronger impulses to join every club and overload their schedules lack clear goals. Psychologists say struggles with prioritization can stem from an inability to say no, the sunk-cost fallacy, societal pressure, and underestimating responsibility. 

If you can check every criterion off that list, it’s not too late to leave some GroupMes! There’s no reason to join six e-boards for the sake of being on an e-board. Of course, the wisdom of selectivity grows with college experience. My upperclassmen friends are definitely more satisfied with fewer, but more meaningful activities than I am right now. 

All in all, we must be wary of becoming shallow. Adding every Wharton club to our resume means little if we’re contributing minimally to each group we’re a part of. While it’s important to engage with Penn’s community, Penn students need to learn to do so in a more organized, passionate way. Join the clubs that you’re interested in, and coffee chat with people you’re actually excited to learn from. If you’re going to LARP anything, LARP interest in your endeavours. Genuine curiosity takes you far.

EVEALLA BANYA is a College first year studying neuroscience from Provo, Utah. Her email is evealla@sas.upenn.edu.