I still don’t know if the obsession with top-tier US schools is worth the toll

Seeing those red brick buildings in photos makes me feel something

I spent a good chunk of my weekend looking at images of campuses like Princeton and some of the newer, glitzy international school projects popping up in places like Jeju. You see these red brick buildings that look like they’ve been there for centuries, or these ultra-modern glass structures that look more like tech hubs than classrooms, and it’s easy to get sucked into that aesthetic. It feels like a promise. My cousin was telling me about these illegal, unaccredited ‘international schools’ that pop up in Seoul sometimes. They promise a fast track to the Ivy League, charging ridiculous tuition for programs that aren’t even legally registered as schools or academies. It’s wild that parents are so desperate they’ll ignore the fact that the place isn’t even properly licensed, just because of the brand name of ‘Ivy League’ attached to the marketing.

The endless list of extracurriculars feels exhausting

I remember talking to a friend who actually went through the process of prepping for UC Berkeley and a few other competitive schools. The sheer volume of things you need to be—not just good at math or writing, but also a leader, a volunteer, an award winner—is overwhelming. They spent about $300 to $500 a month just on specific test prep materials and extra tutoring for SAT subjects alone. That doesn’t even cover the ‘leadership’ camps or the club fees. It’s like you’re trying to build a personality that appeals to an admissions committee, rather than just going to school to learn something. I wonder how much of that is genuine and how much is just a strategic performance for an application essay.

Is it the school or just the network?

I was reading about this professor, Jeong Ha-woong, who mentioned that success in these places is more about the network you fall into than the actual curriculum. It kind of makes sense. You aren’t just paying for the lectures; you’re paying to be in the room with other people who are already on the fast track. Whether it’s Carnegie Mellon or Northeastern University, the prestige seems to act as a multiplier. But then, it makes me think about my own path. I didn’t go to any of these elite schools, and I’m doing fine, but there’s this lingering doubt—did I miss out on a ‘better’ life because I didn’t have that network? Or is that just a narrative we’ve been sold to keep the anxiety high?

The reality of the entrance competition in Korea

There’s so much talk now about how high schoolers need to have entrepreneurial experiences just to stand out. Imagine being a teenager and feeling like you need to have a startup or a unique, world-changing project just to get looked at by an Ivy League recruiter. It feels like the stakes get higher every single year. I looked up some of the costs associated with these specialized college counseling services that focus on getting kids into places like Parsons or other top-tier design schools for things like UI/UX—it’s not cheap. You’re looking at thousands of dollars in consulting fees on top of the already astronomical tuition. I wonder if the pressure is actually helping them succeed or just burning them out before they even reach their twenties.

Waiting for a payoff that might never feel complete

I see these massive projects like the new international school campuses near the Hanwha Foresta complex in Jeju, and I can’t help but feel like the landscape of education is shifting into something I don’t fully recognize anymore. It’s not just about grades; it’s about a lifestyle and a specific status. I didn’t reach a final conclusion about whether it’s worth it or not. Maybe some people thrive in that environment, and maybe for others, it’s just a very expensive way to reach a destination they could have gotten to differently. Sometimes I think the whole system is just too complicated for its own good, but it’s hard to look away when everyone else seems to be running toward it.