You Gotta Be Popular!

What's wrong with high school? Lots of things. But most of all, it's the stupid system of so-called "popularity" that makes even sunshine turn to shit at some point down the assembly line.

In Elementary School, I had no concept of what it meant to be "popular". I knew I had friends, good friends that I very much liked. I knew that everyone pretty much liked me because I was a quiet kid who was polite and kind. I didn't need to know any more. That was enough.

Then came Middle School. I quickly learned that while I still had those good friends, they were no longer good enough. Other kids, including some of my friends, were now Popular. The exact definition of this term seemed to vary, but everyone seemed to agree that those people were, in fact, Popular. I also learned that I, myself, was not Popular.

Why wasn't I? I remember looking in the mirror, frowning with concentration, staring at my every feature, looking for flaws. I wasn't particularly tall or short. I was skinny, but everyone was skinny back then. I wore clothes that everyone else wore. I liked the same music everybody did. I was decent at sports. I made people laugh. So why wasn't I Popular? Or, more to the point, what was wrong with me that prevented me from being Popular?

For this reaches the crux of the problem--when a kid realizes he is not Popular, he does not wonder why he is not, he wonders what is wrong with himself that makes it impossible to be so.

Throughout Middle School, I walked through the halls with this heavy sign around my neck, which I could feel the very weight of bearing down on me whenever I exited the school bus in the morning. UNPOPULAR, it read. It wasn't visible, but I thought it was very real and apparent to everyone, blazoned across my skinny chest. Even in the happiest of my times there, I could feel its burden. A cold metal chain wrapped around my neck like some ever present python, watching, calculating, never letting me forget my inferiority, not for a second.

As I reached High School, I began to gain confidence again. I threw aside my shyness and made new friends. I strengthened ties with friends of old. I allowed myself to be happy for being, well, me.

But the python refused to be shaken off so easily. Again, more of my peers began to be deemed as Popular. I was not one of them. I had heard from my older friends that High School Was Different. But everything seemed very much the same. Even four years later I can't help but notice that while the people have changed, the system remains very much intact.

Now I am in my Senior year of high school. I no longer feel inferior to any others at my school. Why? Because when I was 16 years old, I looked at myself and asked what the point was of defining myself by how Popular I was. I finally began to realize how infernally stupid it was to define myself by a concept that is an integral part of why so many Middle and High schoolers are never truly happy.

It seems to me that many people have simply accepted that, ranging from the ages of 11-18, they will be participants in one huge game of King of the Hill. You played that game when you were a kid, right? Someone finds a pile of dirt, pebbles, or bark mulch and everyone tries to get on top of it. Only, the top is so small that only one person can be King at one time, and within seconds they will be thrown aside by one of the other screaming children scrambling up the the pile from all sides, their eyes gleaming with the invisioned opportunity of being the King, even if just for one second. For most of us, in grades 6 through 12, our life was this game, but played out in hallways and classrooms.

The problem with King of the Hill is that it's an inherently imperfect game. Nobody wins. Even if you do manage to become King, you are ruthlessly thrown to the bottom of the pile soon enough. There are no winners, so everybody feels they are losing. It's hard to imagine why we seem unable to look around and realize that nobody is winning this game. But perhaps that is just human nature. We only imagine ourselves standing atop the pile, reveling in pride, while the masses struggle underneath to match our achievement, and nothing more.

Many, many people I know still hold on to this system as a way of life. They still let the actions of others dictate their happiness. To these people I have this gentle suggestion:

Don't live your life for somebody else. Live your life for yourself.