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Work Hard, Play Harder

Originally published in Pioneer Road (2022), pp. 197–200. Read the original PDF.

“Nil Sine Labore.” (Nothing without Labour.)

I read off the bright red and yellow stripes on the walkway as I stepped into my alma mater, Victoria Junior College. I climbed into my vantage point, the famed Treehouse, and relived my memories as I watched the Victorians go about their lives.

In stark contrast to my carefree stroll into campus, there were hordes of students, strutting around hurriedly with places to be. Piles of books clutched in their arms, the students rushed to their next class. I remembered what it was like, to have assignment after assignment, and classes without breaks, with no respite for the mind. “Victorians like to work hard, and play harder,” it was said, and oh how true that statement was.

The bell rang, and the scenes shifted. Waves of students changed into the iconic, bright yellow “Fi (Red)-Up” T-shirts, with no more books to be seen. Groups ran up to the Treehouse, others ran to the field with a football or frisbee, while some got their hands on arcade games in the lounge. As if possessed by the Victorian Spirit, student after student, who just an hour ago walked around with the weight of the world on their shoulders, suddenly had a spring in their step.

The work was over, and it was time to “play.” Like flipping a switch, these Victorians seemingly lived double lives in and out of the classroom. Yet, as seamlessly as they managed their commitments, there were others hidden in the corners, unable to keep up with the same vigour and intensity. They just needed to catch a break, unlike their peers who almost seemed like they wanted to be seen “playing,” as if it was a part of the work too.

Seeing this made me wonder: were all those students really on top of their work? Or was it just a façade, to live up to the school culture?

While it has always been said that Victorians like to “work hard and play harder,” it appears that this behaviour can be observed even outside the school. These days it is not uncommon to find working adults sharing online about how tough their lives are, as they glamourise their hard work and suffering with hashtags. Moreover, this type of behaviour is so prevalent that it even has a name—“Performative Workaholism,” to describe the “Hustle Culture” that glorifies relentless hard work. Similarly, this “Toil Glamour” has infiltrated many students’ lives, where many see the suffering as a rite of passage, and work even harder to be “seen.”

Yet, I remember my pre-university days as anything but dominated by this compulsion for hard work, which is why I must ask—why is this “Hustle Culture” prevalent among our youth? What kind of influence does it have on their growth, and at what cost?

To answer this, we can learn from Yeo Eun Shin, a South Korean student, who shows us through her 2019 TED Talk how many Korean youth are blindly following a culture of hard work that has been drilled into them. She shared that many of them felt that leading a stressful life was okay, because everyone else was too. To make things worse, their coping mechanism was to feign positivity, often looking like “dolls with smiles stitched to their faces.”

She also asserts that because they were so focused on conquering their mountains of assignments, many struggled with finding a purpose in life. Which is why she calls on us to “be human” and take a step back, as processing our feelings will help us find the end of the tunnel, and not just the next assignment to complete.

Yeo also states that the students engage in this self-sabotaging behaviour, not because they want to, but because they might not know better. How could they, when all they see is the fast-paced, high-energy, cut-throat lives that productivity influencers portray online? They certainly look “successful.” But with more people celebrating this lifestyle on social media, it can be easy to confuse online validation with real success, leading to a “hustle” frenzy that only ever leads to burnout as we chase after recognition, instead of trying to find meaning in what we do.

However, perhaps “Hustle Culture” is not all bad. If one were to invest more time into working towards their own goals, instead of trying to just look busy, they might start to see the merit in taking ownership over where their lives are headed. Instead of settling into a comfortable routine, hustle culture can be about driving your dreams forward by charting your own path, and not so much about blindly working hard.

While I would like to believe that putting my head down and working hard would set me free after I graduate, the reality is more complicated. The “hustle” was never meant to become a performance. By cutting through the noise online, one can find the true message: hustle can be an enabler, helping us achieve what we want.

Unfortunately, most of us get this wrong. We confuse productivity with purpose and turn ambition into a comparison game, trying to one-up each other thanks to our desire to be seen—even when it is on things we do not find meaningful.

I remember a time when working hard was desirable but was still acknowledged as a process that was not pretty or glamorous. Back when it was about “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps,” and not “pulling a perfect shot of espresso” to post on Instagram to let everyone know how hard you work.

Witnessing the growth of “Performative Workaholism” among my peers has shown me that most of us have lost the plot. But I believe the real enemy is not the prevailing culture or any school motto, not even social media. It is us. Hustling could enable us, but we turn it into a comparison game.

So, let’s stop trying to “optimise” ourselves like machines and, as Yeo put it, be human again, by choosing to follow our hearts over the endless “hustle” that has taken over our lives.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to work hard, and play harder—but let’s also do it for ourselves, and for our dreams, because at the end of the day, there really is “Nothing without Labour.”

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