If I write the word "marshmallow," chances are you'll first think of hot chocolate's sticky-sweet companion.
After some time, you'll probably think of the famous Stanford delayed gratification experiment, where children were placed in separate rooms and a marshmallow was placed in front of them. The researcher told the children that he was leaving the room and if they didn't eat the marshmallow during that time, they would receive another. The researchers then tracked the children's progress and found that those who didn't eat the marshmallow had higher test scores, lower rates of obesity, and better social skills.
Yet recently, these results have been called into question. Critics claim the sample used was too small and homogenous to provide unbiased results. Furthermore, the test measures faith in authority instead of willpower — the children had no way of being certain the promised second marshmallow would come. In fact, a 2012 study found that children in reliable environments (ones where rewards are guaranteed) waited four times longer than children in unreliable environments.
This also applies to our daily lives. We often think that if we persevere, we'll get better results. While this is a good rule of thumb, it's important to remember that sometimes, "eating the marshmallow" in an unreliable environment can be more profitable than waiting. In other words, knowing when to stick it out is as important as knowing when to quit.
This year, college applications drove this point home for many of my friends and me. Throughout high school, we struggled over Calculus tests and AP US History essays in the hopes of getting a 4.0. If I texted someone a Physics question at midnight, I was guaranteed a response within the hour. Instead of traditional summers, we worked at research labs or interned with companies. While I enjoyed learning about and experimenting with slime molds and nanotechnology, it came at the price of mental and physical health and a high school experience.
Today, the "marshmallow" for many high-achieving, ambitious high schoolers is having enjoyable, low-stress high school careers. To clarify the metaphor, we're placed in the unreliable and high-stakes environment of college admissions, where the future is decided by a notoriously fickle admissions committee. We're told to avoid distractions like dating and to focus on science and math. If we can work hard, get good grades, and do remarkably well in our extracurriculars, we believe we'll be rewarded by a second "marshmallow," or the chance to attend a prestigious institution and perhaps accomplish all the things we were told to avoid in high school.
So we stay away from distractions. We focus on STEM fields because they're more profitable (at least according to our parents), often at the cost of other interests in art and literature. We patiently craft the perfect application essays and wait for months. Sometimes, the promised reward arrives. More often, it doesn't, much to students' surprise and heartbreak.
Of course, no one is entitled to attend their dream school, but admission results can be terrifying. When people with 4.0s, 1600s, and incredible extracurriculars are rejected from every school they apply, it not only brings into question the reliability of college applications but also raises the question: Is it worth it to stay away from the "marshmallow" in the hopes of something that might not arrive? Sure, striving in high school improves work ethic and perseverance but to quote Ann from "Parks and Recreation,"
"God, but at what cost?"
A quick search through a Reddit community dedicated to college applications highlights the hefty price of overworking in high school. "Was it worth it?" is a common refrain in this sub-Reddit. The posts boil down to this: "I worked so hard in high school and sacrificed things I enjoyed, only to be rejected from my dream school." This has devastating impacts on some users' mental health.
In today's highly competitive environment, it's better to participate in extracurriculars you enjoy, rather than those you believe will appeal to admissions committees. Your curiosity, intelligence, and ambition will shine through in the hobbies you enjoy, and that's what admissions committees are looking for.
Instead of sacrificing high school, make the best of it. Join Art club and Piano club. Learn Spanish until you've exhausted the classes the school offers. Learn about Napoleon and Alexander I of Russia and write stories about them. Or if you enjoy both STEM fields and humanities, create an organization that bridges the gap.
Eat your marshmallows. They're good for you.
