In High Achievers: What Price Are They Paying?, a Harvard alum interviewer describes the kids he interviews, and how they’re “running on empty”:
He listed cross-country as a sport he took up in his junior year. No athletic endeavors had preceded his high-school running. I asked John* (all names have been changed) what had drawn him to distance running and why he came to pursue it his junior year. He replied matter-of-factly, ‘My guidance counselor told me it would look good on my transcript if I had a sport. He said that colleges looked for well-rounded kids and that I needed something like a sport to look better for colleges. Time was running out and my junior year was the last year I could get a sport in before I sent in my applications. I joined cross-country because everyone makes it who tries out.’ ‘Do you like running? Does it give you pleasure?’ I hoped. ‘No,’ was his hollow reply.Peter had scored two 800s on his SATs and was recognized as a National Merit Scholar. As we spoke of his favorite high-school classes, I asked whether he had ever challenged any of his English teachers’ opinions in class. Looking down at the floor, he spoke softly. ‘Sure, I used to disagree lots of times. I mean, there’s no absolute right answer when it comes to knowing whether an author was using her own life or not as the basis for the main character, right? But every time I’d disagree with this teacher or our textbook’s opinion I’d end up getting marked down for it. So I learned it’s better to tell teachers what they want to hear so you’ll get a better grade.’ Sadly, there was no anger or disappointment in his voice.
Sarah, class valedictorian and winner of numerous, prestigious math and science awards, spoke with a dull and disembodied affect about her academic triumphs and her future, ‘Math and science have always been easy for me. I don’t like them nearly as much as literature but they’re what I do best. I guess I’ll major in them in college, get a graduate degree in them and then get an engineering job and get married. That’s what my parents (survivors of Cambodia’s killing fields) expect. They want me to get an engineering job and to get married as soon as I get my graduate degree. I hope that I can save up enough money so that I can retire early, like in my 50s, and travel.’ Sarah was 17, a broken sparrow, dying to be middle-aged.