Jan. 30, 2024
The sound of my overweight footsteps shook the house as an ambitious third-grader rapidly lunged, step-over-step into the family study.
“UMMA!?”. Crickets. “Umma?” No answer from her as I stood, chest-high at the doorway. “Umma! Umma! Umma!”, I yelped in quick succession. Still not even a twitch or acknowledgment of my presence as she continued to shuffle through a mountain of paperwork, humming along to Elvis Presley Best Hit’s playing dimly in the background. “UMMA!”. My prepubescent voice, echoed through our thin walls as she finally turned to me to ask, “yes, son?”.
Step 1. Beg
Step 2. Beg even harder.
As rehearsed ten minutes prior, I clasped my hands together, fell to my knees and dug my bowl-cut into my grass-stained Gap hoodie. “Can you pleasseeeee … “. Pause. “Pleeaasseeee….buy me this Nerf Gun?”. More silence. And like a cigar, Elvis Presley’s bourbon voice clouded the room.
Finally, expecting a typical Korean mom lecture, I lifted my head ready to debate or bargain, whichever I saw fit. But oddly enough, my mother sat composed, un-wavered by my meticulously planned barrage of pleas. She simply grinned as she pointed to her computer screen and happily said, “marshmallows”.
Confused, I rotated the screen to the sight of five or so children, all of whom were most-likely my age and ranged in ethnicity and stature: White, African-American, Asian, Hispanic, you name it. They sat patiently against a typical BuzzFeed backdrop; colorful and ‘Winnie the Pooh-esque. Still confused and eager for an answer, I reached for a candy bar and boasted, “those aren’t marshmallows Mom, those are fat kids”.
She pressed play.
The Marshmallow Game was simple. A BuzzFeed producer placed a marshmallow in front of the children. If you waited, five minutes without eating the marshmallow on the plate you were prized with an additional marshmallow. If the children fell to their cravings, they were disqualified. I watched intently, making boastful remarks to the chubby kids that failed to withhold their sugar cravings and applauding the kids, who were rather uninterested, that breezed through the challenge.
My 'Raven Baxter’ moment soon followed - this Buzzfeed video meant no Nerf Gun. What kind of sick joke was this? My meltdown started and I gave it my all; no spoiled brat is going down without a loosely-constructed argument. And it was at this point, my mother had must’ve thought she transcended Earth, giving no budge but a tranquil smile on her face and her new favorite answer, “Marshmallows, Andrew!”.
The obvious lesson here is patience, anybody with half a brain could see through that. We have heard this proverb in one way or another a million times throughout our lives. It is in our human nature to act impulsively and we are taught by our family members, schools, institutions and random Reddit users; to save things now so that we can have more later. And so I followed suit, my perspective on marshmallows remained rigid and one-dimensional. But as I have graduated college and have begun a new chapter in my adult life, I’ve realized the possibilities to grander, more stoic meanings of the marshmallow. Meaning that transcends a sweet, campfire snack and the first-world pitfalls of my childhood.
The thought occurred to me nearly a decade later during a late-night drive home, where nostalgia struck and I laughed to myself as I imagined a similar marshmallow-eating scenario. In this game, contestants are timed on their ability to eat through a pile of marshmallows; the winner of the race being the contestant to devour through the largest quantity. And unlike the original, my twisted version sees that the fat kids are rewarded for their immediate action and sense of urgency. Lets call this the Anti-Marshmallow Game.
You see, the concept can work in both ways. Run-of-the-mill marshmallows depict contestants that are tested on their ability for patience and rewarded for inaction while 'anti-marshmallows' require a dose of impulsivity and less deliberation into the future or desired outcome. Or better put as inaction versus action.
My time in university was a testament to patience - studying and waiting for results. Yet as I have begun adulthood, I see more clearly that the world rewards those who act swiftly and seize the moment. It is the intricate balance between the truthful patience of the Marshmallow Game and the ‘blitzkrieg’ of its’ ‘anti’ counterpart that paves the road. And it is upon this notion, that holds the foundations to this blog, “overreacted”. My traumatic experience with BuzzFeed’s Marshmallow Game taught me delayed gratification but life can’t always be about sitting dumb.
Through ‘overreacted’, I hope to explore both sides of this coin. It is a hub to share my tendency to hyper-fixate or “overreact” towards random topics and hobbies I come across while also sharing the constants of my life. A celebration of the Anti-Marshmallows of life, if I must.