"Popular" Does Not Equal Popular

Flash back to the sixth grade with me. Like every other sixth grade in history, we had a group of "popular" girls, who today would be called "mean girls" or "queen bees." It doesn't matter what you call them, the scenario is the same: a clique of girls rules the roost that is sixth grade in America. They have inside jokes, usually timed to make outsiders feel even more like outsiders. They laugh and cast sideways glances and sing songs taught to them by older siblings, rendering them just "the coolest."

For the better part of sixth grade, we were at the mercy of these girls. They decided who was in or out, what was cool, what clothes were trendy and what backpack was the fashion for that year. This was standard fare. The rest of us went along with it, wanting to make our hair look just-so but failing. These were the girls who the boys crushed on and who the boys asked to "go" with them. Surely we all wanted to be a part of that group, right?

The class trip that year was to Huntsville, Alabama, to visit the space center. Needless to say, we were completely excited about this. We reported to the school bright and early the morning of the trip and found two fifteen-passenger vans waiting for us (remember those days?). Oh. No. This meant the class had to divide up between the two vans, which left one fundamental question: who would end up in the van with the popular girls?

It would be understandable if you heard that question to mean "who would GET to ride in the van with the popular girls." Wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity to get in their group? To prove just how cool we were and could hang? That makes sense, but that is not how we felt. We were afraid we would get stuck in the car with the popular girls and suffer through several hours of inside jokes, sideways glances, and eye rolls.

One of the chaperones came to the side of the vans and said something that relieved us of our crippling stress: we didn't have to divide ourselves evenly between the vans. All they cared about was that everyone was on a van and ready to go. We did the only reasonable thing to be expected and all piled into one van while the popular girls piled into the other. Granted, there were twice as many of us as the popular girls, so we crammed into our van while they had plenty of room to spread out in theirs. They were delighted to have a whole van to themselves and we were delighted to not have to spend the next few hours with the "popular" girls.

Once we were on our way, I started thinking about the other van and looked at all the smiling and laughing faces in our van. That's when the confusion and realization set in: why were they the popular girls when none of us wanted to be around them? Was popularity as arbitrary as it now seemed to my sixth grade brain? Yes. Yes it was.

In an instant, I was liberated and learned a lesson that has carried me most of my life. It seems "popular" does not equal popular. We don't have to struggle to shoehorn ourselves into someone else's definition of what is cool or awesome or trendy because it's all made-up. Those are cultural constructs. Riding in a van from Georgia to Alabama I was surrounded by awesome kids who were laughing and having a great time because we had been freed from the prison of appealing to popularity. Suddenly we could be 100% authentically ourselves and we were having a blast. It was more fun not to give a rip about the popular girls.

Never again did I chain myself to the idea that "popular" was better. Never again did I try to jump into the popularity contest. I could simply be myself with my quirky fashion choices and goofy personality.

Friends, when your kiddos are struggling because of queen bees and boys who act like they're "all that," tell them about my van ride to Alabama and let them know it does get better. Tell them life is way more fun when you stop caring what the popular kids think and, instead, find the people who want to be with you just as you are. Be popular with the people who are comfortable in their own skin and thrive in diversity.

As a footnote, we all grew up and grew out of our popularity obsession. I became friends with all of those girls. No surprise to anyone, they have had the same trials and challenges of adulthood as the next person. Also, I'm still having fun dancing in the grocery store aisles and wearing clothes no one else seems to wear.