American High Schools: Producing Two Types of Students — the Lost Drifters or the Fast-Track Successes

I’m currently in 10th grade. I came to an American high school at the age of 14 with the goal of aiming for HYPSM (Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Stanford, MIT). One major reason I came to the U.S. was that I failed getting into a top foreign language high school in China (failure is always an inevitable part of life), but that doesn’t stop me from sharing my story. Here in this American high school, I determined not only to accomplish a happy ending to my schooldays, but also to gain a better starting point for the next phase of my life path.

I won first place in a math competition jointly held by 14 U.S. cities in Grade 9 (I won’t name it now because I don’t want to reveal my identity yet). This semester, I’m preparing for HMMT and other math competitions, as well as targeting for a 1500+ on my first SAT.

I also plan to participate in ISEF, PRIMES, and the three major math summer programs, and I’ll share everything I experience along the way. (At the time of writing this article, I am participating in PRIMES and preparing for a series of competitions, including ISEF.)

To start off, here are 3 things I dislike most about American high schools:

1. Limited food options: Takeout is expensive and tipping is a must. Chinese food? Always super expensive!
2. Homesickness and boredom: We’re not allowed to leave the campus. Not to mention 70-minute classes feel very long.
3. Too many Chinese students, which is not exactly what I expected.

So, if you’re interested in American high schools, please keep reading.

We explore this topic through the lens of student development and cross-cultural differences in education:

A 14- to 18-year-old kid like me, lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, missing my chatty mom and dependable dad. I always want to call them, but when I finally do, all I can say is, “I’m fine. Everything’s okay.” Maybe I’m just like many international students — I want to make them proud before I let them worry.

So I know that loneliness makes kids vulnerable, and it can be the trigger for confusion and doubt.

In American high schools, confusion is perhaps the biggest threat to teenage development — it weakens motivation, disrupts learning, and leaves students unsure of what to do next. From what I’ve observed, Chinese students tend to have stronger self-discipline and are less likely to develop bad habits. But in the calm, slow-paced environment of American high schools — where pressure from teachers and family is often minimal (for better or worse) — confusion can quietly take hold. Some students eventually find their way through it; others fall deeper into it.

In Eastern education systems like China’s, head teachers are directly responsible for students’ academic performance, and school evaluations are often based on class averages. Drill-based learning and mandatory homework are the norm.

By contrast, in American high schools, teachers often say, “Learning is your responsibility.” If you’re a motivated student with a good attitude, teachers will offer encouragement, advice, and opportunities. But if you’re unmotivated or lost, you might get one or two check-ins — and that’s it. They usually won’t push further.

This system creates space for self-driven miracles: with abundant opportunities and minimal psychological pressure, students can thrive if they’re willing to take initiative. But it also leaves room for failure — many fall behind quietly and struggle without support.

Students who are shaped by American high schools often find themselves on a fast track to real-world success — and sometimes, even wealth. What sets them apart isn’t just academic achievement, but mindset.

During my time in a U.S. high school, I began to understand more clearly and quickly what success truly means — and how to pursue it. It’s not limited to getting high grades, entering a top university, or earning a PhD. Of course, strong academic performance has undeniable value: it connects you with elite peers, helps translate theory into practice, and earns social recognition in the form of a diploma. But in China, despite its vastness, the education system rarely teaches people how to succeed — that role is often left to the family.

In contrast, American high schools expose students to a global stream of ideas, technology, current events, and career paths. The focus isn’t solely on college anymore. Students begin to ask specific, practical questions: “I want to become the team physician for X sports club” or “That school isn’t top-ranked, but their CS grads get top-tier jobs.”

Students mature quickly in this information-rich environment — but that freedom is a double-edged sword. Not all information is reliable, and students must learn to navigate and judge it for themselves.

There are two things that have meant the most to me during my time here in the U.S.:

I had no choice but to learn how to take care of myself — buying groceries, cooking, doing laundry, managing my own schedule. I miss my mom, but I’ve had to rely on myself. There’s no need to explain further, because everyone understands how important independence, inner strength, and mental resilience are. And by “resilience,” I don’t mean bottling up emotions — I mean having the ability to face challenges head-on, even in silence.

The biggest takeaway from my four years in a U.S. high school is learning to be self-disciplined and goal-oriented.

From Monday to Friday, life can feel like a tightly scheduled commission — every hour accounted for, every task intentional. But then comes the weekend: no homework, no obligations. You’re given full control of your time. In this system, your high school experience can be totally relaxed — or intensely exhausting. But here’s the difference: the pressure doesn’t come from the outside, like in traditional Chinese education. It comes from within. You’re not competing with others — you’re competing with yourself.

That’s why the “successful students” I’ve met in the U.S. truly earn my admiration. They manage to balance everything: extracurriculars, sports, music, a strong GPA, and incredible learning abilities — all at once. They’re not just succeeding in school; they’re succeeding in life.

P.S. I’ve made it onto my school’s basketball third team — not a championship, but for me, it’s a proud first step.