Senior Realizes that He Only Has Twenty Three Club Officer Positions, Suffers Minor Anxiety Attack

Jasmine Xie '16, Senior Columnist

It was the Friday before the deadline for turning in Senior Packet Part B. Most seniors, though hyped for the Black-Out football game that night, scrambled to finish their finalized college lists and student resumes. Senior William Wen ‘16 was no exception.

Cursing the glitchy school printers and toting a box full of munchkins for the first meeting of the Students Against the Inhumane Treatment of Sea Lions By Polar Bears Club (“SAITSLBPB” for short), Wen made one last sweep over his table of thirty colleges and four-page activity resume. Innocent junior bystander Ashley Yang ‘17 described the scene that followed as “ridiculously melodramatic” and “basically a floppy mess.”

“He had this kind of dazed look at first,” Yang explains. “But then he started incoherently gurgling something along the lines of ‘Srinivas had six pages’ and psychotically flinging glazed munchkins at his computer screen. It was quite the spectacle and quite the waste of munchkins.”

Upon hearing of that morning’s commotion, other seniors offered their input. “It’s hardly uncommon to see people hyperventilating over this,” commented Evan Zhang ‘16. “People start and head clubs to pad their resumes, because it’s what everybody does. And though some kids go a little more ham than others, if you don’t, you’ll be at a disadvantage. ”

After taking a short breather in the nurse’s office and consuming what was left of his box of munchkins, Wen was deemed stable enough to provide a statement. “It’s like how sometimes people wear makeup to look presentable, but then become dependent on and ugly without it.  For most of us, our extracurriculars are our makeup to cover up any imperfections on our transcripts.”

On a more serious note, the beginning of the year does indeed mark the beginning of the hectic process of college applications—and makeup or no makeup; Ridge High School seniors are feeling the pressure to look good for their colleges. With the first batch of deadlines in less than two months, upperclassmen can be seen furiously campaigning for officer positions, kissing up to teachers writing their recommendations, and haggling over borderline grades. And for good reason. In an academically rigorous environment like Ridge, many students hope that their hard efforts for the past four years can somewhat reflect in their college admissions. Unsurprisingly, tactics like resume padding develop in highly competitive surroundings, which in turn cause students to do activities for the sole purpose of building an attractive profile.

“It’s sad that we need to embellish our achievements just to get into college,” laments Milli Langston ‘16. “We should definitely be focusing more on what makes us happy, versus what might make the colleges happy.”

But as long as Ridge remains the cutthroat school that it is, the practice of participating for the sole purpose of resume building will most likely continue. Every new school year will bring in a new wave of clubs that fade into obscurity once second semester rolls around, and there is little that anyone can do about it. The culture in environments as competitive as ours demands that each person outdoes the next; paradoxically, while cushioning the activities that we have on paper, we end up spreading ourselves too thin in real life.

Wen (who, in actuality, is a completely sane and accomplished individual) sums it up best: “Changing who we are, to fit a mold of who we think colleges want to see, tragically and invariably prevents us from embracing the most genuine and best versions of ourselves.”