An Ethnography 

of Adderall and 

Wolverines

ILLUSTRATION BY TAMRA TURNER

PAGE LAYOUT BY SARAH CHUNG

2 — Wednesday, March 30, 2022 // The Statement 

Content warning: Mentions of substance abuse
Becoming a university student means experi-

encing many ‘firsts,’ one of which being the first 
time you might try stimulants — caffeine, nico-
tine, cocaine, the list goes on. For me, Adderall 
arrived months too late, but it changed my life 
nonetheless.

Had I known the achievement-obsessed lion’s 

den I was walking into when I arrived in Ann 
Arbor my first time, I probably would have left 
that same night. It’s hard to see this environment 
when you’re sitting on the Diag, watching people 
bounce a basketball around, friends walking side 
by side, smiles on faces and block ‘M’s embla-
zoned on shirts.

What does it mean to be a Michigan Wolverine? 

How many tour groups have to walk by me before 
I get the sudden urge to let it all out, to scream in 
their face and warn them that Ann Arbor is bru-
tal, that it’s eat or be eaten on a daily basis. Dur-
ing those hallowed ‘Campus Days,’ what they 
don’t tell you about being a Michigan Wolverine 
is the number of hours you’ll spend ruining your 
eyesight staring at a computer screen, nearly sob-
bing because you can’t figure out how to calculate 
an integral. To hear roommates screaming down 
the hall and witness strangers wiping away tears 
in the UGLi, afraid to admit defeat.

How many more nights can I handle looking 

up from my screen and seeing the sun rise in the 
distance? How many more eyes can I look into, 
drained of their color and plump, before I finally 
say something?

There is a communal suffering we all bear wit-

ness to, sometimes falling into the very trap our-
selves, and yet this is something many of us refuse 
to talk about. It’s time we change that.

***

My story with my ADHD diagnosis began dur-

ing my very first semester on campus. It was fall 
semester and COVID-19 was at its peak, reducing 
me to Zoom lectures that I couldn’t bear to attend 
and homework groups I couldn’t bother to meet 
with. I had all the time in the world it seemed, just 
like during quarantine, but something was differ-
ent. 

My mind was persistently aware of the school-

work slowly piling up, but I could do absolutely 
nothing to induce movement in my body to 
change anything about it. Sitting behind the worn 
down desks of South Quad dormitories made me 
feel queasy, a constant reminder of all the things I 
had promised to complete and never did. 

Then winter semester came around, and I was 

still wasting hours of my time working on Canvas 
discussion posts and applications to internships I 
knew I wouldn’t get, and still falling behind my 
peers. It was a rat race, and I was losing.

Eventually, I got my slice of heaven: I was diag-

nosed with ADHD my sophomore year of college, 
and I could finally silence my frenzied thoughts 
with a little pill each day. Then, as more and more 
people learned of my treatment plan, and I began 
to ask those around me what they think of stimu-
lants like Adderall, I quickly realized that my 
medication was a valuable commodity — phar-
maceutical gold to certain Michigan students.

When you’re a Wolverine, you’re either buying 

or selling, trading or spotting — like at any other 
American university, Adderall is a precious com-
modity in our collegiate climate. You hook friends 
up with people who know people, facilitate silent 
exchanges on Venmo with cryptic descriptions, 
an illegal trade we’ve almost normalized. But 
these are symptoms, not the cause, of the increas-
ing dependence on stimulants among college stu-
dents.

I set out to follow the breadcrumb trail, tracing 

the origins of the campus-wide Adderall abuse by 
seeking out students and asking them about their 
stories with this coveted little pill. In some sort of 
twisted way, I desperately sought a solution from 
the words of those affected most, the people who 
sit next to you in lecture as you both ignore each 
other’s despair — a silent recognition that needs 
to be vocalized. 

Everyone remembers their first time
Like most things, drugs often sneak into your 

life quietly and unexpectedly, but they leave a big 
impact. It’s not exactly a secret that college stu-
dents are twice as likely to use stimulants than 
other non-students at their age, and that 5 to 35% 
of students have tried Adderall without a pre-
scription, but numbers don’t always tell the entire 
story.

Data can illustrate trends and correlations, 

but it says nothing about the real motive behind 
campus-wide Adderall use. Sometimes, uphold-
ing the notion of ‘leaders and best’ pushes us to a 
breaking point, a point that can be remedied by a 
productivity pill. 

Here’s what my peers had to say about their 

first time with Adderall.

A sophomore majoring in philosophy in LSA, 

like many others, happened to stumble upon 
access to Adderall through pure luck. “I think 

I tried Adderall 
for the first time 
in 
my 
sopho-

more year of high 
school — a friend 
had it. And they’re 
like, 
‘yo, 
you 

should try this. 
It’s crazy, it helps 
you focus and it 
makes you feel 
good.’ And I was 
like, ‘oh, sounds 
good.’ I’m like, 
it goes with the 
ADHD thing, but 
I’m very impul-
sive and have no willpower. So, if something’s in 
front of me, I’m gonna take it. … So that was it and 
I loved it.”

For those with ADHD, Adderall can give us a 

breath of fresh air, as the winding and persistent 
overlapping conversations in our minds die down 
to mere whispers.

An LSA sophomore majoring in sociology 

reflected on when they first became lovestruck 
by the pill’s effect. “I was 15 or 16. I bought it from 
my drug dealer who I used to (buy) these THC 
pills from. He kind of skipped out on me a couple 
times, he’s just so unreliable because that’s how 
drug dealers are. But he felt bad. And I think he 
just threw one (Adderall) in for free. … I took it 
and … I sat down and drew pictures, which is 
very strange for me, because I don’t like to focus. 
I don’t like to pay attention to one thing, but I did 
it. I spent two hours on it. And afterwards I really 
liked (Adderall).” 

A computer science student in the college of 

LSA reflected on their first couple of experiences 
with Adderall. “The first time I ever got Adderall, 
I bought it off a friend. It was actually Vyvanse, 
but same shit different name. The first time I took 
it was actually at the Union at 6 p.m. to do work, or 
it was to go to Necto. …That’s how I got it the first 
time, because someone offered to give it to me.” 
Like many students, this particular individual 
found Adderall by way of a friend who had it, rath-
er than intently seeking it out themselves. Thus, 
an informal but meticulously-cultivated network 
of Adderall users and dealers begins to take form 
on campus.

Additionally, they mentioned the first time 

they took Adderall in conjunction with another 

drug, an extreme dose of caffeine. “There was a 
period of time where I was staying up every night 
for quite a while. That’s happened quite a bit in 
computer science. And one of my friends who has 
an Adderall prescription, she opened up one of 
the capsules of her Adderall and poured it into a 
Bang energy (drink). And I thought, this is a good 
idea and I need this right now. And so I drank it.”

According to fellow students, finding Adderall 

also seems to involve being at the right place at the 
right time.

The computer science student continued, and 

our conversation quickly turned to the cyclical 
nature of Adderall usage on campus: “Anytime I 
mentioned that I have (Adderall) someone will be 
like, yo, where’d you get that? Literally everyone, 
like if you say the word Adderall on this campus 
everyone goes like, where’d you get it from? Okay, 
you pay five? I pay 10. Where’d you get that bro?”

Successfully acquiring Adderall on campus 

is indeed a game of knowing people who know 
people.

It’s not a sin if you’re not a sinner.
How do we define the ends justifying the 

means? “Drug abuse is bad” is quite an archaic 
notion, almost too black and white for our genera-
tion. Researchers cherish categories and numbers 
and correlations, but I find them to be a detached 
approach to complex anthropological questions. 
Humans are smart, adaptable and first and fore-
most, curious. And curiosity, it seems, is a major 
factor of first-time Adderall use.

BY VALERIJA MALASHEVICH, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

Read more at 
MichiganDaily.com

