Michelle Zuo | The Chronicle
Mason High School (MHS) has never been a stranger to competitions. During first bell on January 16, 2026, I joined dozens of other MHS students in anxiously logging into the Regional Scholastic Art and Writing Awards website. My heart was pounding as I searched through the 17-page “winners” document, only for it to drop when I saw how rarely my name appeared.
The days following the release of the results were filled with hallway complaints, texts of fury and calls of frustration from MHS students and across the country. We soon learned that Scholastic had changed its method of judging and had cut the number of winning pieces down by hundreds. This change left many, including myself, feeling underappreciated and defeated in an already highly subjective and competitive field.
It is a common saying that hard work often equates to success; as long as you put in the work, your results will speak for themselves. So, what happened? Considering the long hours I spent staining my clothes with paint and battling writer’s block, perhaps that saying is not as effective as society preaches it to be.
But this realization is hardly new. Anyone who has participated in any competitive environment, whether it is in sports or a Speech and Debate round, should know that life itself has never been a fair competition. In fact, the very idea of “success” is also subjective. What does it mean to be successful? Does it mean to be happy, to have an audience applaud you, or to own a lot of medals? Depending on your perspective, all of those could be correct. I believe that the real “success” lies within.
The mirage of “winning” is what drives people to compete, yet it also pulls apart the purpose that once provided its meaning. Purpose means something different for everybody, whether it’s the community you’ve found or the reason why you started. That’s what makes it so important, but also easy to lose, especially in the illusion of wanting to be “the best”.
Think about the number of different ways you have spent your time, whether it was through harsh, tearful practices or prying apart challenging concepts. How have those moments of “blood, sweat and tears” built you as a person? Who was there to support you? What drives your passion, and why did you continue?
I will go first. Drawing and writing have taught me the value of working creatively and how to persist through a series of failures. My teachers, family and friends have always been diligent in not just challenging, but also encouraging me. My passion is driven by improvement, learning and sharing what I enjoy doing.
If you can answer all of those questions, you know your purpose and subsequently, you have already won. Loss should never be seen as a waste of time. We should cherish it. And if not cherished, it should be used to push you to be better than you already are. If you were to win every time at everything you have ever tried, the value of “winning” would lose its meaning as “success”. Failure exists to challenge success, so that success becomes the path, the passion and the purpose.
So, that common saying does have an aspect of truth in it. Hard work does lead to “success”, but that success is not always instant gratification. True “success” is the accomplishment of enduring a journey, regardless of the type of medal that comes after.
