The University of Michigan has 
an Adderall problem. Some would 
even call it an epidemic. Despite the 
University’s increased campaign 
to recognize mental health on 
campus, it has failed to address 
how campus culture fosters the 
use of Adderall throughout the 
school. As students become more 
entrenched in the popular “work 
hard, play hard” mentality that 
grips much of the student body, 
they turn to Adderall to achieve the 
academic and social success that 
this campus covets. A recent survey 
by The Daily found that 24 percent 
of University students use Adderall, 
and a 2008 study of 1,800 students 
found that as much as 81 percent of 
college students think that Adderall 
usage is not dangerous at all or 
only slightly dangerous, despite 
the fact that the consequences of 
the illicit use of the drug sit right 
next to those of cocaine, meth and 
morphine. However, despite the 
prevalence of the drug, there is a 
dearth of University resources to 
educate or help students that are 
grappling with its repercussions.
To remedy this gap in 
resources, the University must 
increase funding for Counseling 
and Psychological Services and 
advertise services provided by 
Addiction Treatment Services 
through Michigan Medicine. Over 
90 percent of students who use 
Adderall use it for the purpose 
of concentrating while studying. 
These students do not realize 
the potential negative effects of 
the drug: notably, its high risk of 
dependency and potentially lethal 
consequences if used with other 
drugs and alcohol. With such a 
large percentage of students using 
Adderall without a prescription, 
it is important that the University 
provides students with addiction 
help.
The presence of Adderall at the 
University is almost expected. 
Whether prescribed or non-
prescribed, Adderall is a normalized 
part of campus culture; people try 
it, use it and depend on it. Though 
freshmen entrance programs like 
Haven or AlcoholEdu exist to 
raise awareness on the dangers of 

alcohol consumption and addiction, 
there is no campus-wide campaign 
that addresses the overwhelming 
prevalence of Adderall at the 
University. Consequently, most 
students don’t know much about 
the drug, and view it through a 
destigmatized, distorted lens. 
Because it is considered customary 
and is easy to acquire, most students 
don’t realize the medical, legal and 
moral implications of taking or 
selling the drug.
Adderall is classified as a 
Schedule II drug by the Drug 
Enforcement Administration, 
which means that it maintains 
a “high potential for abuse, 
with use potentially leading to 
severe psychological or physical 
dependence.” It ranks higher than 
drugs like Xanax, which is Schedule 
IV, and is at an equal level with 
cocaine, another Schedule II drug. 
In addition to its addiction level, 
Adderall can spur painful side 
effects, from insomnia to paranoia. 
In an interview with the Daily, one 
student reported that “if I took it at 
any acute dose, it would just kind 
of cause chest discomfort and keep 
me from sleeping, and I couldn’t get 
anything done because the chest 
pain would make me panic.” 
Along with medical issues, 
Adderall dealing and use can lead 
to harsh legal consequences. The 
length and weight of penalties vary, 
but according to Michigan law, 
distribution of Adderall illegally is 
considered a felony and can lead 
to serious jail time. Despite this, 
Adderall dealing doesn’t have 
the same image as other drug 
trafficking. On campus, it’s as easy 
as texting someone in your hall for 
a pill or two. There are no back-
alley deals, and oftentimes, money 
isn’t even involved. Because it is 
destigmatized and bred from an 
intense, competitive school culture, 
giving someone Adderall may 
appear to be helpful, not harmful. 
To some, the need to succeed 
outweighs the legal risks. Another 
student interviewed by The Daily 
reflected on her Adderall use by 
saying “I never really thought 
about it as being illegal to be honest 
… I feel like a lot of people who 
don’t have ADD (Attention-deficit 
disorder) are prescribed Adderall 
and I don’t think it’s like taking 

a Prozac or something that is so 
mentally altering … I don’t think of 
it as, ‘Oh, this is like a drug.’” Many 
students at the University echo 
this mentality subliminally, and by 
forgetting the legal implications of 
selling Adderall, we only add to its 
normalization on campus.
The perception of Adderall tends 
to lack the severity that we ascribe 
to other performance-enhancing 
drugs. Adderall has proven to 
improve students’ performance 
in rote memory forms of learning 
tasks, especially over several days 
or longer, acting as a performance 
enhancer for exams and tests that 
require intensive memorization. 
This can be especially impactful 
in classes in which performance 
relies on rote learning. When 
the difference in letter grade 
is significantly changed by the 
number of concentrated hours one’s 
mind can dedicate to memorizing 
in relation to others in their class, 
Adderall acts as a medically induced 
upper hand. 

The widespread and 
academically motivated use of 
Adderall on campus can make it 
easy to forget what exactly it is: a 
drug. Much like other drugs aimed 
at enhancing abilities, whether 
mental or physical, Adderall 
presents its users with a moral 
choice. Adderall’s aid of certain 
academic abilities is one of its 
innate qualities, and students at 
the University should recognize 
as much. For those who view this 
issue as inconsequential, this 
much should be remembered: All 
students, Adderall users or not, play 
on the same academic field. Thus, 
we all feel the tilt brought about by 
Adderall, whether it pushes us up 
or down.
Though Adderall is commonly 
used in academic settings, it is also 
prevalent in the college party scene 
as a complement to alcohol. The 
focus of the University’s efforts 
to curtail dangerous behavior 
has been mostly targeted toward 
alcohol. However, the recent 

increase of mixing the “study 
drug” with alcohol should provoke 
concern because of the possibility 
of dangerous and unpredictable 
effects.
First of all, the University should 
take care to educate students on 
the chemical differences between 
Adderall and alcohol. Adderall, 
on the one hand, is a powerful 
central nervous system stimulant 
that increases the availability of 
excitatory neurotransmitters in 
areas of the brain that deal with 
focus, energy and alertness. On 
the other hand, alcohol is a central 
nervous system depressant that 
inhibits the function of excitatory 
neurotransmitters. 
The mixing of Adderall and 
alcohol then has two discernible 
effects: those in the short term and 
in the long term. The short-term 
effects stem from the unpredictable 
nature of their combination. One 
minute someone could be within 
their limit of alcohol intake, and 
the next they could be suffering 

from seizures or heart failure as 
a result of the capricious cocktail 
of medication plus alcohol. In 
the long term, a person’s quality 
of life can suffer from mixed 
use. A recent study found that 
simultaneous use of non-medical 
prescription stimulants and alcohol 
by undergraduates was associated 
with low grade point averages, use 
of other substances and increased 
alcohol-related consequences.
The group at the highest risk for 
Adderall abuse is college students, 
and therefore the University has 
an obligation to educate its student 
population on the consequences. 
The consumption of Adderall is 
not only widespread, but students 
have also become desensitized to 
its possible severity. To counteract 
this trend, a possible addition to the 
AlcoholEdu program of a freshman 
seminar on the use of unprescribed 
medication in academic and 
recreational settings could be a 
positive step forward for student 
safety and security.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Fall 2018 — 11C

Let’s talk about Adderall

A letter to my 
freshman self

Graduating 
high 
school, 
I 
thought college would be a simple 
continuation of what I had been 
doing, but, you know, different. 
That wasn’t right at all; well, for 
the most part, anyways. My first 
semester was through the Summer 
Bridge Scholars Program and in a 
way it was like high school. We had 
predetermined classes at set times 
and we all got to know each other 
pretty well. Classes started at 8:30 
every morning and there were two 
lunch periods. Kind of like high 
school but, you know, different.
As I conclude my second year 
at the University of Michigan, I 
would like to reflect back on my 
time here, what has led me up to 
this point and what I wish I had 
done differently. If I could write 
a letter to my high school self, 
reminiscing on how I screwed 
up or the times I didn’t know any 
better, it would probably start 
with something along the lines of 
“Dear Me, you have no clue what 
you’re getting into,” or maybe more 
like “Dear Dumbass, please try 
harder.” After that first summer, 
I was overconfident, unprepared 
and just straight-up not ready for 
college.
Flash forward to fall semester 
freshman year and I actually had 
to pick my own classes (which 
I had never done before) and 
basically decide what I wanted 
to do with the rest of my life. 
Ambitious as ever, I signed up 
for the earliest class times and, as 
a hopeful Engineering transfer, 
thought it would be a splendid idea 
to take all the core classes at once 
(Engineering 100, Chemistry and 
Calculus). To top it off, I also took 
the LSA language requirement as I 
was still an LSA student. 
I wish someone would have 
given me a reality check about 
what college was really like. Being 
a first-generation student, I wasn’t 
able to consult my parents in 

regard to how I was supposed to 
go about the whole college thing.In 
high school, I never thought very 
highly of those who dropped out 
of college, but I wish I had taken 
the time to ask why they did. After 
that fall semester I was seriously 
considering taking some time off 
myself. College sucked, man.
I have now been able to settle 
into college and I feel much more 
confident in my ability to manage 
the work involved, but if it hadn’t 
been for the high expectations of 
my family and friends, I might be 
flipping burgers for a living right 
now. I thought I was alone in my 
situation, but I later found out 
that this was not the case. In fact, 
according to the First Generation 
Foundation, 
“Nationally, 
89 
percent 
of 
low-income 
first-
generation students leave college 
within six years without a degree” 
and, “More than a quarter leave 
after their first year.”
If I could write a letter to myself, 
knowing what I know now, it 
would probably look something 
like this:
Dear idiot, dumbass me,
First and foremost, you are done 
with high school. It’s over. Please 
don’t go out partying if you have 
homework to do. Yes, even if it’s 
the weekend and all your friends 
are going. Stop procrastinating 
and do not prioritize a social life 
over school because you are really 
going to kill my GPA, dude. Second, 
please take a more manageable 
course load, especially in your 
first semester, because you will 
have me considering dropping out, 
for goodness sake. And last, but 
definitely not least, sit down and 
take some time to think about your 
future. Plan out what classes you 
need to take and how you are going 
to go about taking them. Talk to an 
advisor if you need to (just do it, 
man) — they are way smarter than 
you. Oh, and that schedule thing 
that you thought you were too 
good for? Well use it, idiot: it’s so 
much more helpful than you know.

LUCAS DEAN
Columnist

Confessions of a closeted rosshole

It really is a daunting task, 
deciding your career path at the 
ripe old age of 18. It has been 
over a year since I found out I 
was accepted into the University 
of Michigan as well as the Ross 
School of Business. At the time, 
I remember thinking everyone 
knew what they were going to 
study in the fall. Little did I know, 
that many people will change their 
minds at least once, if not twice, in 
college. With so much excitement 
joining the U-M community, I 
didn’t realize it came with a whole 
new platform for college memes. 
The punchline for a lot of these 
jokes, however, involves business 
majors or – as we’re known on 
campus – Rossholes.
I’m what you might refer to as 
a “closeted” Rosshole. I applied 
to the Business School without 
any rhyme or reason and, to 
my surprise, was accepted. I 

remember being ecstatic until 
I realized the reputation that 
being in Ross carries on this 
campus. STEM majors scoff at 
you and you can’t exactly bond 
with other non-STEM majors 
because, you know, capitalism. As 
a freshman with absolutely no idea 
what the stock market is and an 
inability to pretend I understood 
how Wall Street worked, this was 
particularly confusing to me. What 
exactly is the stigma surrounding 
the B.B.A.? What exactly made me 
a “Rosshole?” 
Honestly, to truly define what 
campus deems a Rosshole, you have 
to go to the meme pages. There, you 
can find the meaning of Rosshole 
clear as day. First, you have to be 
someone who incessantly talks 
about the fact that they’re in the 
Business School. Then, obviously, 
comes the Canada Goose jackets. 
Can’t be a true Rosshole without it. 
The overall effect is just a stuck-up 
person who will end up with some 
kind of fancy internship – that they 

may or may not deserve – doing 
something they don’t particularly 
understand that will eventually get 
them a lot of money. Kind of mind-
boggling, no?
I can totally see why the rest 
of the school hates business 
students so much. The building 
itself 
screams 
Rosshole 
with 
its namesake, Stephen M. Ross, 
donating 
millions 
of 
dollars 
to enhance the already-garish 
façade on East University Avenue. 
Meanwhile, across campus, other 
departments may be struggling to 
find funding. It is infuriating. It is, 
wait for it, capitalism.
With this mindset, I entered 
freshman 
year 
unwilling 
to 
divulge the fact that I was in the 
Business School, which, let me 
tell you, was very difficult. The 
first two questions you get when 
meeting someone new anywhere 
on this campus is, “What are you 
studying?” and, as a freshman, 
“Where are you living?” Both 
of these questions posed issues 
because I was in the 
Business 
School 
and 
living 
in 
Martha 
Cook. Both of these 
answers 
can 
garner 
very 
negative, 
albeit 
interesting responses. I 
learned how to explain 
away the funny looks I 
got when I said I lived in 
the all-girls dorm with 
a severe reputation by 
mentioning it’s actually 
a really nice place to 
live, but that’s another 
story for another time. 
How did I deal with 
answering the major 
question? I had a couple 
of solutions, both of 
which 
were 
equally 
annoying and equally 
harder to deal with than 
if I had just said I was 
in the Business School. 
I learned if I asked the 
question first – bam – I 
could tailor my answer 
to whatever they said: 
“Oh, you’re in Ross? 
Me too!” or “Not in 

Ross? Okay then, I am in LSA and 
undecided.”
The whole “LSA and undecided” 
answer worked really well until 
I went to go fill out forms or 
people started to get more curious 
about my class schedule. The 
Business School isn’t part of LSA 
and business students are not 
undecided because they receive 
a B.B.A. Super specific, I know. 
Anyways, I would forget about the 
whole B.B.A. thing because I was 
so determined to ignore the fact 
that I was in the Business School. 
I’ll admit it, I was ashamed.
The first five months of the 
school year, a long time for a school 
that gets out in April, were awful. I 
treaded lightly when I met people, 
not knowing whether or not being 
a business student would somehow 
affect our possible friendship. 
Spoiler alert: it didn’t. I put so 
much emphasis on the negative 
aspect of the fact that I was in Ross 
that I didn’t look at the bright side. 
I’m in Ross. Some people would kill 
to be in my position.
I didn’t appreciate that until 
the middle of winter term. I 
think it had to do with the fact 
that I was in denial about not 
being a STEM major. The people 
with which I surround myself 
are all pre-med or some kind 
of biochemical science major 
taking organic chemistry their 
first year while I sat around 
doing ethics case studies. Both 
are super interesting, it’s just 
that, for a long time, I didn’t 
understand the weight of what 
I was studying, didn’t think it 
was as “academic” as, say, doing a 
chemistry lab.
I think one of the biggest 
reasons I didn’t feel comfortable 
with my standing in the Business 
School was that I have no idea 
what I want to do with my life. 
Do I want to go into health-care? 
Do I want to manage a hedge 
fund? Do I want to somehow do 
both? These questions continue to 
plague me, but a business degree 
is at least start in some kind of 
direction. So, yeah, maybe I am a 
Rosshole after all. 

SAM MOUSIGIAN/Daily
Graduate transfer guard Jaaron Simmons has waited his entire life to play in the NCAA 
Tournament. 

EMMA CHANG
Summer Editorial Page Editor

FROM THE DAILY
Michigan Daily Editorial Board