The school year has barely begun, but for many students across Highland County, the exhaustion feels like a carryover from last semester. The backpacks are heavier, the schedules tighter, and the pressure—both spoken and silent—is already mounting.

This isn’t just first-week fatigue. It’s something deeper.

Between college prep, part-time jobs, extracurriculars, and social dynamics, students are juggling more than ever. For some, the return to school feels less like a fresh start and more like a continuation of an endless loop—one where rest is rare and resilience is assumed.

Teachers notice it too. “They’re quieter this year,” one Fairfield Local educator shared. “There’s a kind of tired that doesn’t come from staying up late—it’s emotional.”

In a world where productivity is prized and burnout is normalized, students are expected to be scholars, athletes, artists, and activists—all before dinner. Social media amplifies the pressure, turning every outfit, grade, and opinion into a public performance.

Even the rituals of back-to-school—new clothes, new supplies, new goals—can feel performative. “It’s like we’re supposed to be excited,” one student told us anonymously. “But most of us are just trying to survive.”

There’s no single fix. But acknowledging the fatigue is a start. Schools can create space for rest and reflection. Communities can listen more and judge less. And students—despite the pressure—can be reminded that they’re more than their output.

Because if backpacks are heavy, it’s not just the books inside. It’s everything they’re carrying that no one sees.