The Great Club Day Con: How Free Pizza Turned My Kid Into a Joiner

You know that moment when you send your kid to Club Day at high school, hoping they’ll find something meaningful to connect with?

Yeah. My son came home a member of ten clubs — possibly more, but he was having trouble remembering all of them. I’m 99.96% sure he couldn’t tell you what more than half of them are or what they do — but he can tell you who had the best candy-to-commitment ratio. Apparently, all it takes to recruit an ADHD teen is a mini Snickers bar and the words, “We have pizza at our meetings.”

It’s basically Comic-Con for teenage dopamine seekers.

The Setup: Club Day Explained

If you’ve never been to a Club Day, imagine the State Fair but with no animals and hormone-driven sales pitches. Every club sets up a booth, armed with posters, candy, and desperate enthusiasm.

There’s music, shouting, and kids wandering around with clipboards pretending to make life-altering decisions while really just looking for sugar.

For incoming freshmen, it’s a chance to “find their people” — you know, other teens who are equally awkward, radiating Axe body spray and anxiety, and pretending they totally have a five-year plan, when in reality, they’re running on a 32-second plan and half a bottle of Gatorade.

I told Kei — my bright, impulsive, ADHD-powered high-schooler — to explore and “find something that inspires him.”

He found Skittles.

The ADHD Recruitment Funnel

Here’s the ADHD logic in action:

Candy = dopamine.

Dopamine = good.

Sign-up sheet = small price to pay for dopamine.

It’s basically speed dating for short attention spans — walk up, make eye contact with a table covered in Twix, Sour Patches or Baklava, and suddenly you’re in the Persian Club. Every booth was a new burst of dopamine: a free sticker here, a slice of pizza there, and the occasional “we have snacks every Friday” that sealed the deal faster than any brochure ever could.

In under 30 minutes, my kid managed to join more clubs in his freshman year than I did in all four years of high school. Not counting sports, I was in Key Club, Italian Club, Nursing Home Club (visiting them, not living in them), and briefly, Mock Trial… until I found out sarcasm doesn’t hold up in court.

I joined clubs to pad my college applications. He joined clubs to pad his lunch schedule.

I'm proud to say, I raised a joiner… or just a kid with a strong commitment to free food.

The Lineup: The Clubs Kei Actually Joined

Let’s break it down, shall we?

• Mental Health Awareness Club – Honestly, this one tracks. Self-awareness with snacks. Win-win.

  
  

• Plastic to Plate Club – Still unclear what this is. Something about recycling? Sustainability? All I know is they had Sour Patch Kids. Not sure if he has attended an actual meeting yet.

  
  
  
  

• Persian Club – He is not Persian. But apparently, they serve really good food and that’s what matters.

  
  

• GeoGuessr Club – He thought this was a gaming thing (it is), and for once, his hyperfocus might actually be useful. He may even learn some geography while he’s at it.

  
  

• EBN (Entrepreneurship, Business, Networking) Club – He assumed this was about making money. They were handing out brownies, so technically, he wasn’t wrong.

  
  

• Dungeons & Dragons Club – Predictable. It’s the ADHD trifecta: imagination, roleplay, and snacks that crumble on your character sheet

  
  

• Jewish Club – We’re not Jewish, but they offered challah and good vibes.

  
  

• HOSA (Health Occupations Students of America) – He thought maybe they’d talk about body parts. They didn’t. But there was free pizza. I believe he has since ghosted this club.

  
  

• Investment Club – He asked if they were investing in Chick Fil A. (They were not.)

  
  

• Surfrider Foundation – Too much work required, so he already dropped it. I guess ocean cleanup was a bigger commitment than he expected.

By the end of Club Day, Kei had 27 new Remind notifications, 14 Google Classroom invites, an overwhelmed frontal lobe and one very proud mother who’s just hoping at least one of these clubs involves actual attendance.

The Reality Check

On the drive home from school, he proudly told me he’s “involved now.”

Involved in what, exactly?

Unclear.

I tried to color-code his new club schedule on the calendar — not easy, considering he couldn’t remember half of the clubs he joined. All I could think about was how many snacks I’d have to fund for meetings he’ll forget to attend. By next week, he’ll probably get kicked out of half for “forgetting to check his email” and promoted to officer in the other half because he accidentally showed up twice.

The Takeaway: Free Pizza, Fun, and Finding His People

Sure, he joined ten clubs for the free food. But maybe that’s how connection starts — with curiosity, chaos, and a handful of M&Ms.

ADHD kids don’t always join things out of deep passion or a five-year plan. Sometimes, they just say yes to the world — and that’s something to celebrate.

So yeah, my kid joined the Persian Club for snacks and D&D for dice. But he also learned that school has a place for him — even if it’s one fueled by pizza and accidental ambition.

Moral of the story: Never underestimate the motivational power of sugar.

And if Club Day ever needs a rebrand, I humbly suggest: “Welcome to the Buffet of Belonging.”

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk on how ADHD turns Club Day into an all-you-can-eat buffet.

If you laughed, related, or have your own “joined for the snacks” story — welcome to the club (we meet at lunch).

 Stay Neuro-Jammin’!

— Tara

ND Life Founder, Former Mock Trial Dropout, Director of “We’ll See If He Remembers to Go”