{shortcode-e90a1b092f1b9ddced80565e6e6d0554a4377fb1}
“You should take the deal,” my mother suggested. She grabbed my shoulder, digging her fingers into my Lightning McQueen t-shirt and grimacing.
“I say no deal,” my father said.
At this moment, my 8-year-old self became immersed in this world. I saw the contrast of the red and blue flashing lights, the 26 beautiful models holding the white briefcases that would change my life, and the show’s host, Howie Mandel, beckoning for my response. My palms were sweating and my heart raced. After what seemed like forever, I made my decision:
“No deal.”
“Alright, let’s see what’s in your case,” Howie responded.
The Music played, and then—
“Wow, LJ — you won the top prize of 250 tickets!” said my father.
“Let’s play again. This time I will let mom choose,” I said excitedly.
My first time at the local arcade, I won 800 tickets within a span of five games. I became a risk-taker.
***
{shortcode-be29865d8a9c7908fa05930b7f2d42574eaa573c} have always been obsessed with game shows. My grandparents and I would sit in the living room and watch them for hours on end. “Jeopardy,” “The Price is Right,” “Wheel of Fortune,” and many others would take over our minds, fostering a competitive yet playful environment in our living room. Watching these shows was the only time that work and school came to a complete halt. Nothing mattered besides the varying symbols and flashing images on my grandmother’s 40-inch television.
My favorite game was “Deal or No Deal.” The fact that one simple question, just four words long, could elicit extreme physiological and emotional responses amazed me. The premise of the game is this: There are 26 briefcases, one of which has the top prize of $1 million. The contestant’s goal is to find which briefcase has the $1 million inside. Each round, the contestant eliminates a briefcase and is then told its value. At this point, they are left with a choice: continue to go on for the chance at the top prize or take an offer of guaranteed cash from the banker.
During the game show, I would see rational people turn irrational, risk-takers turn into conservative players and families divided over nothing more than a briefcase.
My love for the game extended outside of the TV screen. I would beg my father to take me to the local arcade so I could play the “Deal or No Deal” video game. But unlike many contestants, I would always say no deal, no matter what the offer was and continue aiming for the top prize. At the time, I didn’t know why I kept aiming for a chance at the top prize. Maybe it was the feeling of the unknown, the adrenaline rush that would overtake me as I chose a case. But “deal or no deal” has now become a mantra, an ideology that governs what I — and others — accept or reject.
With more thought, I realized that we answer the question “deal or no deal” often. In deciding where we want to eat, what to wear, or even what parties to attend, we are effectively taking control over our lives, following our intuition throughout the process. Like the contestants on “Deal or No Deal,” deciding based on instincts can be life-changing. But unlike in the show, Howie Mandel is not the one asking us to choose. We are.
***
{shortcode-8c0dd475ea3269f67b1a4d37d27db5cc232a1fc2}hen I was born, I weighed two pounds and five ounces. Doctors told my mother I would most likely not hear or see. I had too many surgeries to count and was in the intensive care unit for months. Many around my mother told her to give up, to try again for another child. But I am glad she never gave up on me or else I would not be here. My mother was willing to fight and take a risk on me, for me. She tuned out all the noise and believed in me and the hospital staff. She said “no deal” when death and grief attempted to penetrate our family. For that, I am forever grateful.
The belief my mother had in me eventually allowed me to apply to Harvard. Even more importantly, my mother showed that your gut guides you well. The odds were stacked against me. Aside from the 3.41 percent admission rate for the class of 2027 — slightly below the 4 percent chance of winning a million dollars in Deal or No Deal — hardly any person from my high school had been accepted to Harvard. Friends told me not to apply, that it was a waste of an $85 application fee. But I thought of Howie and said “no deal” to complacency. And when confetti and music popped up on my screen confirming my acceptance, I couldn’t say “deal” fast enough.
***
{shortcode-21cc3534b02e5a90dd1b6e61be0fe28423896a7e}nother element I enjoy about “Deal or No Deal” is the show’s ending. After the contestants either say “deal” to guaranteed money or choose to see what is inside their briefcase, they fully learn the consequences of their actions. For those who say “deal,” Howie asks:
“If you’d said no deal, what briefcase would you have chosen to eliminate next?” One by one, the contestant plays along with Howie in this hypothetical game and sees what it is inside of their briefcase. The contestant can then compare their actual decision to their hypothetical decision. But what’s interesting is that no matter what would have happened in this alternate “Deal or No Deal” world, the contestant — and their family — choose to fully stand by the original decision.
This idea of evaluating choices in hindsight captivates me. When I make a decision that leads to an unfavorable outcome, I have to look back and reassess. But I can also choose to stand by my decision, knowing full well that I made a well-informed choice supported by my instincts. For me, this idea of “deal or no deal” can unlock a new level of freedom from shame and regret.
So I will keep relying on intuition to accept or reject things in my life. I will embrace the “deal or no deal” mantra.
