Lights Insights: Rewards

Aiden Pierre-Louis
Zach’s Favorite Resident

It was 11:00 p.m. at night, and I burned the cupcakes. 

One of my best friends’ birthdays was the next day, and I needed to find a backup plan quickly. 

Because it was far too late at night to go to the store and buy a new mix, I decided to make new cupcakes from scratch. 

However, there was just one problem: I had never attempted freshly baked cupcakes before. 

But that night, I knew I would have to learn. 

After watching an AllRecipes tutorial about five times, I threw together the batter, prepped the oven, and finished the frosting. 

Once the cupcakes were cooled and golden brown, I topped them with generous heaps of frosting and sprinkles. When all was said and done, I only had about 6 hours to sleep, but hey, at least I finished the task. 

After school the next day, I surprised my friend at his party with homemade birthday cupcakes. For a first-time attempt, they tasted delicious, and my friend was entirely shocked when I told him that I didn’t use a box mix. 

When looking back at the event years later, the most rewarding part was giving my friend a heartfelt, homemade gift while discovering my apparent hidden baking skills. 

The ordeal also taught me the value of bouncing back from unexpected mishaps. 

Though I’m not claiming to be Julia, Martha, or any of the greats in the world of baking, I can definitely say that those cupcakes were pretty stinking good. 

Rhett Mercier
Frequent Nap Enjoyer

 What is a reward? 

The most common definition is that it’s receiving something for doing a good job. A reward could either be a physical object or an intangible. 

But what is the point of a reward? 

My best guess is that it gives greater incentive to get a job done well. Like a bonus for a job or a trophy for winning a competition. 

The frequency of rewards drops dramatically the older a person gets. Behavior that was worthy of receiving rewards becomes expected, causing that ever-creeping feeling of monotony to grow. 

Have you ever felt like you were just going through the motions in your job or with your assignments? I know I have. So, that’s why instead of waiting for a reward that might never come you should give one to yourself. 

You studied hard for a midterm and passed, take a day to relax and recharge. You managed to get out of your comfort zone and do something beneficial for yourself, throw on “The Notebook” and devour a pint of ice cream. 

The form doesn’t matter, the only thing that does matter is that you’re treating yourself. And we students deserve to treat ourselves every once in a while. 

Our base emotional state is stressed. Thats not how we should be living, we should be enjoying our youth. 

So, I hope you take my words to heart dear reader and treat yourself. Cause I know I will. 

Taiyara Nudrat
Certified Cup-Noodle Enthusiast

 Nowadays, a good night’s sleep feels like a well-earned reward, a far cry from my first-grade self-refusing to settle for anything less than first-class tickets to Australia after getting everything right on a math quiz. But as I stand here, visibly scarred by the trials and tribulations of midterms, I can do nothing but graciously accept whatever kernels of good fortune come my way. Even finding a one-dollar bill on the floor would be a win. Rewards seem to come in all shapes and sizes nowadays. Perhaps growing up is recognizing that what was “little” when you were 10 might seem gargantuan now. It’s funny because I have since come to tower over the average non-basketball playing child (in heels, of course). 

I was speaking with my best friend recently when she, in an attempt to get me to pick up her calls more often, joked that we’d have to start getting the fireworks out whenever I showed up online. And since then, I’ve been plagued with thoughts about seeing the most important people in my life on scheduled time periods on a tiny screen. I don’t remember spending a day without making an elaborate scheme to escape a hug from that one overly affectionate relative during my childhood. 

Now that I’ve been away for a while, I don’t know if I can view such things as mundane, everyday events anymore. You know you’ve been out for too long, when even a fifteen-minute nightly video-chat with your cousins can surpass the joys of receiving much shinier looking things. But I suppose rarity is indeed the secret ingredient that makes the reward what it is. If you ask me on a less contemplative day though, there’s nothing better than coming home one day and seeing your least favorite soccer team thrashed 7-0 (by your team, no less)! 

Zach Jaworski
Third Place Shot Putter

 Sometimes an award comes in the form of a trophy, or a medal, or a plaque, or any number of physical items. You can stand on a podium and feel good for a few minutes, but you forget that soon after. You can stand in front of a room and accept a prize, but the room empties out eventually. You can spend your whole life chasing something shiny. But when it’s over, and it’s time to cash in on the chips, and there are just a few breaths left to breathe, will it be worth it? 

As you get older, and you reflect on the few rewards you’ve received — you realize that most of those won’t mean anything in a few years. Something else will fill its place. 

When you were in high school, all you could think of was football. You spent hours a day thinking about how your team was going to beat whatever team they were playing on Friday. All that anyone on the team could think about was winning the state championship. 

It’s amazing how at a young age all you look forward to is potential existential pleasure. There is nothing that compares to it. You had a great season but lost the only game that mattered. That was no longer attainable. 

After you stopped caring about that, all that mattered was winning your high school shot put title in track and field — which, you won. But you won it in the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, so no one that mattered outside of your team got to see it. 

Then it was on to college. Rinse and repeat. Accolades sit at the top of the hills and all you could do was chase them. 

But eventually you look back and notice everything you were so quick to rush past. Then you realize there is no award on the hill — you already rushed through it on the way there. 

Noah Donnellan-Doser
At Large and Dangerous

 Rewards are dumb. How dare you believe you deserve anything more than a pat on the back for your accomplishments? Rewards only fuel the egos of desperate masses seeking approval from their supervisors, or even themselves. 

I am reminded of the recent trend of “sweet little treats,” the end-all-be-all of rewards. Last semester, I was made the “sweet little treat” errand-runner for my girlfriend. Toward the end of every Java show, I was instructed to run off to the pub just before its closure at 1 a.m. to pick up a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream. Her preference was always either “Half Baked” or “Americone Dream.” But alas, I would often arrive too late and must settle for a “Chocolate Fudge Brownie.” A true let-down in her book even though we would finish the pint within the hour while watching reruns of Cartoon Network’s “Chowder.” 

Throughout the semester, a part of me resented how much I had to get the treat – not because it was a time nuisance or out of my way back home, but more so because it was undeserved. Why should we get ice cream after such a long day? Sure, she worked a grueling shift at Java as I dealt with the bombardment of spilled drinks and heckles from intoxicated 20-somethings. But we did not perfect our work. 

On top of that, I skipped the gym that day, excusing myself from waking up early or squeezing in a mid-day lift. Similarly, I did not eat healthily that day, opting for an extra chicken breast from Dana, instead of a clean bowl of greens. 

Yet still, I would eat half of that pint in her bed while the misadventures of a little purple boy comforted my exhausted mind. And, in that moment, I understood I was not rewarding myself and neither was she. We rewarded each other for staying accountable every day. It was the reward gifted to two people who saw only the brightest moments from each other and desired to give each other the world.