the second marshmallow

By now, everyone is familiar with the Marshmallow Test, I hope. If not, here’s a summary:

The Marshmallow Test is also referred to as the Stanford Marshmallow Experiment. It was first conducted in 1968 by Dr. Walter Mischel et al. at —no surprise —Stanford University. It covered delayed gratification; the children in the study could receive one marshmallow now or wait for two marshmallows. The mythology around the experiment is considerable, with people asserting that it proved that the ability to delay gratification at a young age (they were preschoolers in the study) correlated with increased achievement and success later. All of this naturally correlated with intelligence. There was even a study later that correlated delayed gratification with lower body mass index. This was something that was drilled into us in beginning psychology: for a child to be successful, they needed to learn to delay gratification. When I took those courses, I never questioned it —just absorbed it like a sponge and thought of ways to help kids work on it.

What the experiments did not address was the elephant in the room: socioeconomic status. Getting out into the real world, the non-controlled experiment that is society in the US, I’ve had the opportunity to witness firsthand how that factors into kids’ decision making. I am haunted by one girl in particular.

She joined us when she was placed with a foster family. Her background was significant for neglect, and she was an emergency placement but she had been there for a month or so when I started working with her. When I work with kids, I generally work on things that are hard for them to do, so I do use prizes. I don’t center everything around tangible reinforcement (fancy speak for bribes or rewards), but they’re there if I need them. Everyone has chance to work towards different levels of rewards. A long time ago, I set it up so that the less desired prizes were easier to obtain than the more desired prizes which required a longer wait. Sound familiar? Yup. The Marshmallow Test.

She didn’t wait, though. She wanted Play-Doh (a need to wait item), but opted for crayons (a shorter wait item).

“Are you sure?” I asked her.

Yes, she said, the crayons now instead of the Play-Doh in two weeks. I never force the issue, and she got her crayons.

And she was moved to another foster placement by the end of the week.

Was she wrong to take the crayons? I don’t think so. One of the things the Marshmallow Test doesn’t consider is the element of trust that needs to occur between the person with the prizes and the person trying to earn them. Is it worth it to take the chance that the more highly-desired item will be both available and obtainable at a later time? Sure it’s been promised, but will it be there? Will you actually receive two marshmallows for waiting?

The longer I live, the more I wonder if that young lady is far wiser than I am. It’s maladaptive (fancy speak for dumb) to continue to have faith in waiting for something when all you’ve been shown is that waiting is a way to lose opportunities rather than gain them. “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush” became a cliché for a reason —it contains an element of truth.

I find myself thinking about her lately, and I hope, wherever she ended up, that she’s okay and that the crayons brought her some joy. I’m really glad she didn’t wait.

the road well traveled

See the Aurora Borealis for the first time. Check. Bonus points for no one else noticing or announcing they were there.

The Northern Lights as seen through a highly-reflective plane window

Originally, my most recent trip to Iceland was planned as a solo trip to Japan. How did I end up in Iceland? Compromise is ultimately the best answer I can come up with at this point. I love Iceland; I hadn’t seen the Northern Lights yet, despite trying on a trip with my son, mother, and sister in February 2020; a Solar Maximum (the peak of the solar cycle which makes the aurora more likely and stronger) is occurring now; and I found out my mother and sister were going to Iceland. The last time we had tried to meet up —a planned trip to Mexico —the trip was canceled for health reasons. So Iceland. Try again. Who cared where it was? It was a trip! And I hadn’t seen them since 2020.

Planning the trip also became an exercise in compromise. My preference will almost always be avoiding tours unless they are very small, and even then, I like to wander around and find things by myself. I’ll ask for recommendations and take them, but ultimately, I prefer self-direction. My mother has mobility issues, so tours work better for her —sort of. She trusts their driving more anyway. Originally, I had planned to get a car, but that was set aside in favor of tours. We did also work in times when my mom and sister did their own thing and I did mine. It would be good to see them and tours generally take hours, so we would have time to catch up. Or that was the plan.

In reality, I had dinner with them one night and then they both left the next day. Their dog had been kicked out of the kennel for being mopey. True story.

Iceland was still great. I saw the Aurora for a second time —I preferred seeing them accidentally during the plane ride over to seeing them after being loaded on a tour bus to try and see them on schedule, by far, and I spent most of the time on the tour watching people watching the Aurora. I found museums with great exhibits and no one in them, which automatically makes them better. I took public transportation —I love figuring out buses wherever I go. I visited a tiny hot springs and had great walks along the water at sunrise being buffeted by the wind. I watched a movie I had been wanting to see (Fallen Leaves by Aki Kaurismäki, fantastic) in a cinema where they gave me beer for free because they couldn’t figure out how to run my credit card. I ate a lot of pastry and drank a lot of coffee. I got a tattoo. I stayed where I usually stay, because I’ve been there enough now I have a place I like to stay. I did not get to see a volcanic eruption, but that was only ever left to chance anyway —the way Northern Lights are meant to occur, as well, I have learned.

I don’t know that I’m always meant to travel with other people. What’s the saying, life is what happens while you’re busy making plans. Perhaps fewer plans are needed. And no expectations, because without them, you remain open to things you might miss otherwise. Should I have gone to Japan? No, I don’t think so. Not yet anyway. I wouldn’t have seen the Aurora Borealis from 38,000 feet in the air.