At Los Altos High School, ambition runs deep — but so does academic pressure. College admissions look more like a finish line that determines self-worth than an opportunity to expand one’s interests. In turn, clubs have become less about passion and more about prestige, as a frenzy to build the perfect resume has shifted club culture from community and creativity to worthless titles.
Earlier this year, ASB and SCL Activities Director Sarah Alvarado wrote an email to almost 100 club leaders and advisers regarding the sheer number of inactive clubs that had not submitted club meeting minutes for months.
The email stated, “Our records show we haven’t received the required meeting minutes to confirm your club has been meeting monthly. Not sure about which club this is for? Check the list of 89 clubs below.”
That’s right — of 152 total clubs, nearly 60 percent were at risk of losing their charter, simply because they couldn’t meet the standard meeting requirements.
But for the lack of activity, their leadership roster read like a Fortune 500 company — some clubs hold up to 10 officer positions. Most of these students then flaunt these titles on their college and job applications, creating the illusion of meaningful leadership. But behind the polished resumes are clubs that barely held any meetings and had little to no member engagement.
The widespread inactivity highlights a major problem in the college admissions saga: Title farming. With colleges increasingly expecting students to demonstrate leadership at school, being the “President of X Club” seems like an easy shortcut for those who wish to signal involvement in their school’s club culture.
As a result, this toxic club culture is bound to backfire. Colleges are getting better at spotting clubs with shallow involvement. Without documented initiatives, consistent member involvement, and legitimate community impact, a title means little. Admission officers have started viewing a long list of club leadership positions as an indicator of inauthenticity rather than excellence.
Imagine starting high school interested in joining a particular club with ambitions to foster change. But when you finally track it down, you discover it only exists on paper, completely inactive and absent from the school. This not only limits students’ ability to explore their interests and pursue meaningful involvement, but also reflects poorly on the school’s ability to support student activities.
To fix this, we need accountability — from both students and ASB — and a significant change in club culture. ASB should not only enforce meeting minutes but also a minimum activity standard. This may include one fundraiser, one school event outside of school hours, or one guest speaker. Clubs that fail to meet these expectations should be suspended or dissolved to make room for motivated groups of people. Implementing an activity requirement will ensure clubs exist for more than just padding resumes. It also restores value to the title of club president, signaling commitment and achievement.
Students should stop feeling pressured to chase leadership titles and instead create clubs with genuine purpose and meaningful engagement. Leadership isn’t found on an Instagram post or a Google Form — it’s found in planning events, organizing for guest speakers, raising funds, and helping your community.
Ultimately, it’s time to ask ourselves: Are we building communities or just our resumes?
