By Carol Wang | Novellea Education
In late March, I attended Lawrenceville School’s Discovering Day — a special orientation event for newly admitted students and their families. Lawrenceville is one of the oldest and most prestigious boarding schools in the United States, with nearly 200 years of history.
There were tours, faculty panels, Q&As. But the moment that stayed with me came from the Head of House’s speech addressing a room full of incoming students:
“If you take away only one thing from today, let it be this: ask for help.”
Just that. No explanation, no elaboration — as if it were the most obvious truth in the world.
It’s Not a Slogan. It’s Infrastructure.
At a boarding school, “ask for help” isn’t a motivational slogan. It’s infrastructure. You live on campus around the clock, surrounded by house parents, academic advisors, teachers, coaches, and counselors — all of whom are specifically there to support you. Not just to manage you. To actually help you.
In American educational culture, asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that you know where you are and where you want to go. The students who thrive aren’t the ones who never struggle. They’re the ones who know how to reach out when they do.
The Voice That Says “Don’t Bother Others”
Honestly? Asking for help is hard for most teenagers, regardless of where they’re from. Adolescence is already a time when you’re hyperaware of how others see you. The last thing you want is to look like you can’t handle your own work.
For some students, there’s an extra layer. If you grew up hearing ‘不要总是麻烦别人’ — don’t always bother other people — you know what I mean. That instinct isn’t wrong. It comes from a real place of consideration. But taken too far, it works against you.
One of my students at a boarding school once told me, “That teacher doesn’t seem to like me very much. I feel uncomfortable going to them.”
My response was pretty direct: whether or not you show up to office hours probably doesn’t change much for the teacher. But this is your education, your life. You’re the only true stakeholder in this game. And honestly, you might be surprised. Most teachers are a lot more approachable than they seem from a distance.
He went. The teacher was warm and helpful. And afterward, that teacher wrote:
“I was very happy to see him come to me. Otherwise, I would not have known what was challenging him, or how to help.”
They’re Waiting for You to Knock
That line has stayed with me.
As an education consultant, I feel exactly the same way. I genuinely want students to reach out — not just when there’s something on the agenda, but when a thought is rattling around in their head, when they want to bounce an idea off of someone, when they just need to vent. Every time a student reaches out like that, I feel trusted. It tells me they’re taking their own life seriously. Bothersome? Never.
The teachers and advisors I’ve met at boarding schools feel exactly the same way. They chose this work, living and working alongside students because they want to be part of your growth. When no one knocks on their doors, they’re the ones left wondering what they’re missing.
You think you’re bothering them. They’re waiting for you to knock.
So knock. You don’t need a big problem. You don’t need the right words. Just walk in. The door you’re really opening isn’t theirs.