On every Club Day, students wander from table to table, signing up for clubs they’ll probably never attend. If you ask students why they would join a club b, you’ll hear varied responses. 

Yes, you might get an, “I really like science,”  or the occasional, “I’ve always wanted to volunteer.” 

But unfortunately, most of the time, you’ll see a different  mindset: Join everything. Get a leadership position.  And hopefully, admissions officers will notice your incredible initiative and passion. 

Somewhere in this mess of a system, the original purpose of clubs has been lost. 

School clubs should be an opportunity to seek out a more niche community –– to pursue passions together. Yet today, they’re too often used as resume padding for college applications. Simply put, a club title has become more valuable than the actual experience behind it. 

School clubs should be founded and driven by genuine passion, not by the pressure to look accomplished. If involvement only exists to strengthen college applications and resumes, you lose what clubs were originally meant to be: connection, collaboration and the freedom to authentically explore what you care about most. 

While roughly six out of 10 children nationwide participate in at least one extracurricular activity, many club rosters are bloated with names, even though data shows only a fraction of those students ever become active participants.  

You can see this data reflected everywhere, even at Paly. Club sign-up lists are cluttered with dozens of names, even though  meetings consistently sit half-empty. A club might be active for a month, fueled by ambition, but then quietly fade once the resume bullet point is secured. Everyone’s seen it happen, and it’s an issue because it discredits the meaning of involvement.

Clubs haven’t always been like this. If you talk to your parents or older students, they will tell you about a time when clubs grew from interest, instead of obligation.

It’s not entirely an individual’s fault, however: the system rewards this cycle.  As college admissions become more competitive, leadership stands out. If you can’t get a leadership position from a preexisting club, then the solution is simple: you just create one. 

Colleges ask for leadership, so students chase titles. Schools allow clubs to exist with long rosters and low attendance, so students sign up without commitment. Students think they’re supposed to join — and have leadership roles — in everything. As a result, there’s a strong pressure to demonstrate our burning interest in some niche activity or topic. 

This ambition is good, but ambition without passion burns out quickly, and that’s when clubs die. When the fake enthusiasm fades, people start quietly disappearing after the first meeting. 

We need to start asking if the clubs we create actually matter beyond a line in a resume. We shouldn’t stop creating clubs, but we should start creating them for the right reasons. If someone wants to start a club because they love coding, chess, baking or poetry, that’s great — especially if their goal is to build community, create discussion and offer something meaningful. But if the purpose ends at “founder sounds impressive,” then the club isn’t serving students, but rather catering to an illusion of passion. 

The solution isn’t complicated. Students don’t need 15 activities they barely go to. They need a few they genuinely show up for and care about. Start a club only if one related to something you truly care about doesn’t already exist, and join one or two others if you actually look forward to them. That’s how involvement becomes meaningful instead of performative.

For me, this has meant choosing a small number of places where I know I’ll contribute, and not just appear on a roster. That approach doesn’t just feel better; it makes each experience more rewarding.

One club you care about can impact your life more than five you barely attend. Passion makes clubs strong, commitment makes them memorable and authenticity is what makes involvement matter.

If we rebuild club culture around genuine interest, instead of image, schools don’t just gain better clubs. With authentic and genuine clubs, schools ultimately gain richer  communities.