Keller – Nay
Every time the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve, I cry. Maybe it’s my overly sensitive nature or emotional teenage tendencies, but ever since I could grasp the concept of the new year, waterworks have become a New Year’s tradition.
When the calendar app changes from December 31 to January 1, I have never felt refreshed or excited. I only feel the impending doom of the new year, and, when the ball drops over Times Square, I accumulate a list of events or necessities that I’ll maybe complete in a mere 365 days. 2025 left me facing standardized testing and the first half of “hell year,” and 2026 has only brought a rush of college questionnaires, applications, and physics labs that never get less confusing. Sure, it’s a glass-half-empty way of looking at the passing of time, but “new year, new me” has never been a positive thought at the top of my mind on New Year’s Day.
For many, New Year’s is about letting go, leaving memories of the previous year in the past, and aiming to only look to the future. For me, letting go of the previous year has always been the hardest part of a new year. When I flip to a fresh blank calendar, I feel automatically obligated to leave all the memories of the previous year in the past, days, experiences, and people that I can’t ever get back. As much as I crave to look forward and not reminisce about what could never again be, New Year’s just feels like a barrier between me and the memories that made my year, memories that I can’t seem to part with and can’t let leave my head space so easily. As the clock inches closer to midnight, I never get closer to a year of new opportunities and experiences, only further away from the year when I loved someone or lived in a stress-free reality. When Jay Gatsby said, “You can’t repeat the past…why of course you can!” he seemingly never experienced the separation between past and present that occurs when we ring in a new year.
While a new year can mean a fresh slate to some, a chance to change their lifestyle for the better, New Year’s resolutions are one of the most pointless trends in our society. There’s nothing special about January 1 besides marking a full lap around the sun, which you can say on every day since there are infinite starting points, and there’s no reason to center any goals around a seemingly-significant day on a calendar. Instead of waiting for the start of the year to make a change or achieve a goal, a random day in the middle of March would be equally effective for making a necessary or desired change in one’s life. For years as a competitive gymnast, I was required to set a goal for the week every “Motivation Monday.” But what was the point of setting a goal on Monday? As my week went on and I practiced more, shouldn’t I have set an applicable, achievable goal instead of blindly setting a goal setting when it was convenient? I feel the same way about New Year’s resolutions: their timing and motivation seem to have no real purpose or connection to one’s goals.
The short-lived nature of a New Year’s resolution makes it even less meaningful. According to a 2023 study done by Forbes Health, most New Year’s resolutions don’t make it past February. Instead of a happier, healthier society, New Year’s resolutions seem to result in cancelled gym memberships, unused gallon jugs of water, and stacks of healthy recipes uncooked when the chef decides whole foods and healthy habits aren’t their jam.
Beyond the randomness behind New Year’s, the idea of a New Year’s-centered party or goal is completely dependent on a Western, Gregorian (Christian) calendar. Very rarely does someone mention their New Year’s resolution during the Lunar New Year, the Islamic New Year, or the Jewish New Year. I can’t remember one time that anyone has ever asked, or even thought to ask, if I’ve made a resolution for the Jewish New Year, even though it is something celebrated in my family. Although our secular society may formally use the Gregorian calendar to set the new year for things like taxes and insurance deductibles, to suggest that we can only start something anew at that one time of year lacks both perspective and sensitivity. This is particularly true at Parker, where we make intentional efforts to respect the values and traditions of our diverse community. With a constant emphasis on the Western system, it begs the question whether we are living up to our own standards of embracing all cultures.
Sure, New Year’s is an opportunity to open a bottle of champagne and gather with friends and family, but when looked at more closely, it’s just a random day on a calendar where so many put the weight of the year. I’ve given up on New Year’s traditions: eating grapes under the table has seemingly done nothing but backfire, and store-bought fireworks are really never all they’re chalked up to be. Instead of relying on my whole year on one day and trying to forget the year before, I’ve started to see New Year’s for what it truly is: a random day on a calendar. If you’re looking for a reason to start something new or stop something, just pick a day that means something to you personally. That day is no different than January 1 of any given year. It’s just a day on the calendar.
Zeller – Yay
On New Year’s, my family crowds around the TV to watch Dick Clark’s “Rockin’ New Year’s Eve.” Seas of purple Planet Fitness hats illuminate the screen, Ryan Seacrest comments on just how excited he is for the New Year, and Times Square billboards advertise Stranger Things and cosmetics to complete this carnival of a holiday. In the chaos of “the biggest party in the greatest city in the world,” the real meaning behind New Year’s gets lost. Reflection.
There’s a reason Planet Fitness chooses to sponsor “Rockin’ New Year’s Eve in New York City.” Millions of viewers, all feeling imbued with a sense of bravado, simultaneously get the urge to go out and get in the gym when the ball drops. It’s the most lucrative time for the business, and it’s all thanks to the New Year’s Resolution.
Now, I’m not saying resolutions are just some vehicle for influencing aspiring gym members to feel guilty–quite the opposite. New Year’s resolutions are a built-in stopping point in our lives to reflect. It’s a reminder to better ourselves by assessing what works in our lives and what could be improved, to consider the year now over and look to the new year with optimism and ambition. When the calendar resets, we should enter the year thinking of how to be the greatest versions of ourselves, whether the change is big or small.
It’s cliché, but without something forcing us to reflect, we never will. As social creatures, we look to those around us to validate our experiences and prospects, so when the world all decides they want to pick up running, or read a book every month, or start journaling, it makes it easier for us to do those things too–it makes personal change feel less daunting. Just telling ourselves that we’re going to start a new routine isn’t long-lasting. It’s why so many people abandon their resolutions after a few months of trying them out. But the beauty of the resolution isn’t that it’s supposed to change your life for every year after – it’s the act of reflecting on the year and seeing how you can see fault and change that counts.
I rarely keep my resolutions. Dumb ones, I mean. Historically, I’ve never been very good at sticking to randomly starting a new activity for the purpose of just starting it. The resolutions I do keep are the ones that challenge me to think about who I am, and what I can do to benefit myself – to give myself that gift of refinement. I think about the pandemic, and how I knew I needed to change my lifestyle somehow in order to reclaim social interaction. So, I reflected on how I show up in spaces, the kind of energy I bring to an environment. I realized that without active attempts to connect with others, they weren’t to connect with me. My New Year’s resolution became more than just some tradition I did for a holiday–it became tangible personal growth that evolved over time.
At Parker, some of this personal assessment among the student body could go a long way. We’ve fallen into the trap of being too quick to judge yet too nervous to pose a solution. Grievance without structure is noise, and the student body has been making incredulous amounts of noise. Most criticisms of Parker culture among students have come from a place of contempt, without resolution. Change is good, change is necessary, but there should always be a plan with actionable steps if we ever intend to implement change. This, effectively, is why the New Year’s Resolution is such a beautiful tradition – it’s a lesson not only applied to Parker, but to all things as we learn, change, and grow.
The more we perpetuate the same habits and systems that keep us from progressing, the more those habits and systems control us. Maybe New Year’s seems like a mundane holiday, maybe Planet Fitness is just trying to capitalize on insecure people in the month of January, or maybe a simple act of reflection can help us see what’s missing from our lives. I’d say that’s cause for fireworks and champagne.
