Inside the college culture of SJS, there are two wolves. The old guard tells us—either outright or more subtly—that unless we go Top 20, we fail. The new school of thought is gentler and implores us to get enough sleep, prioritize our wellbeing and take care of ourselves, pretty please. 

Students are caught in the middle. We struggle to realize our self-imposed high standards when we are constantly force-fed contrasting advice: to do well but to also be well. When we fall short, satisfying the self-care gurus feels like yet another impossibly distant benchmark that only the one-percenters can reach. 

So what’s a Mav to do? It has been established, by Niche rankings, popular opinion and our own egos, that we are one of the top college prep schools in the state, if not the country. We pride ourselves on being the best of the best. If we don’t make it to the top tier, but aren’t quite in the middle either, we struggle to feel good enough. As seniors tackle college essays, looking to justify the abridged version of their entire lives, many of us are wondering: What was the point? What more could we have done with our time if we studied a little less and let loose a little more? In the end, was it worth it? 

Yeah, it was. 

Note an important distinction from our own College Counseling office: Attending St. John’s does not guarantee you admission anywhere. Your time here has prepared you for college so you can balance work and play, even if you didn’t here. Let visions of this intoxicatingly balanced future incentivize you to push through this last semester, or year or two. It will all work out. 

Acknowledge that you are smart and driven, and your time here has equipped you to make your own decisions. You know what’s good enough because you know yourself best. Work hard, but be kind. At the end of the day, the only person always with you is yourself, so you’d better be fun to hang out with.

And even if all seems lost, embrace the suck. Understandably, that might not be what you want to hear. But consider: Zuck dropped out of Harvard. Justin Bieber was a street busker. Dolly pushed through extreme poverty to icon status. Every star worth their salt needs a good origin story—stick around for Chapter Two.