Growing up attending public schools in China, I adapted to a test-robot and a teacher-pleaser mindset. The Scantrons on placement exams dictated my well-being. Suffering from this lack of freedom, I was constantly worried about letting authority figures down and spiraled into existential crises every time my works were not deemed perfect.

As you may have guessed by now, I was that resident sad gifted kid, longing for the day I would be free of impossible standards. Escaping from this cultural bubble, I dreamed of pursuing higher education in the United States, where I could avoid the pressure of the Chinese college entrance exam. 

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However, when I finally left home for a U.S. high school, I noticed the culture of hard work never truly went away. Instead, gifted and talented programs were disguised as selective extracurriculars and pre-professional opportunities, blending with the expectation of becoming a useful member of society.

The unrealistic demands for youth across the world forced us to view achievements as the number one defining factor for happiness. When we are taught to follow a strictly capitalist pathway to success, we tend to prioritize a win-at-all-costs mentality over other crucial skills like emotional intelligence and compassion for our communities.

As a victim of obsessive passion for achievements, I can attest to the indoctrination of extreme individualistic values: exploit your supposedly endless potential, but not to help others, only to further your success. Yet, contrary to the doctrines I had been taught, I want to be part of my surroundings regardless of the language we speak or the culture we represent. 

As a 1.5-generation immigrant, I couldn’t stop feeling like a perpetual outsider to the meritocratic U.S. Luckily, thanks to my sociology classes at USC, I now know that my flourishing is not ruled by ambitions but by a sense of belonging.

Diverging from metric-based toxicity is far from easy. However, I firmly believe there is immense value in an adulthood free of competitive burdens. Since moving into my freshman dorm, I have been determined to find organizations and people who share my vision for advocacy, volunteering and civic responsibilities. 

Upon joining several service-oriented clubs, I met friends and mentors who went through the same journey of philosophical contemplation and landed in a much brighter place because of their commitments to social service. Working with projects such as Water Drop Los Angeles, the Downtown Women’s Center and the USC Family of Schools affirmed that I can make meaningful contributions without racing in an infinite sprint of productivity and efficiency. 

Devoting our weekends to organizing events is never as simple as an escape route from our exhausting daily routines. Assisting these local nonprofits with hosting events and distributing essential resources inspired us to fill this talented yet overwhelmingly elitist institution with a hint of emphatic actions. 

As I familiarize myself with the USC environment, I often ponder how I ought to behave after I leave behind all my undergraduate coursework on social institutions and structural issues. What if this knowledge can’t enact real change? How am I supposed to find a career in social service? Even with all the occupational advising sessions, I cannot picture where I will end up. 

For the first time, my choices were not dictated by an arbitrary system, but having the freedom to decide my fate left me more confused. The desire to remain on an accelerated track may always lure me toward bureaucratic pursuits of excellence, but I have found alternatives for self-actualization that allow me to feel adequate despite my fear of failure. 

So, if you also feel stuck in an endless loop of trying to excel at every exam and striving toward a supposedly promising future, this message is for you. The college journey is not a means to an end for you to chase one milestone after another until your accolades are marked with impressive titles. 

We don’t have to bundle up in our miseries to prove the validity of our existence; we can combat our relentless anxiety by delving head-first into our intuitions, whether that be creativity, innovation or collaborations. 

The gifted program instructors that once haunted us now only exist in our subconscious. Truly, we are not mechanical prototypes diminished to a name on a ranking sheet, but trailblazers and movement leaders — if you just let the sad gifted kid go, I promise you won’t disappoint yourself.