There's a new girl at school. She's in 3rd grade, and here's what I know about her so far:
1. She has a pretty name
2. She's a little shy
3. She's already deeply unpopular
How does this happen? Seriously, she had only been here a few days when I noticed the collective shunning taking place by her classmates. It seemed that she had barely arrived before her expiration date came due. At first it was subtle, like no one offering to loan her a pencil when hers broke, but it quickly escalated into something much more direct and disturbing. The other day I saw her hot on the heels of one of the sweetest girls in the 3rd grade. Suddenly, sweet girl spun around and had this conversation with her:
Nice girl: (in very frustrated voice, suggesting this was not the first time she had had to do this) "Will you please stop following me around?"
New girl: "But you're my best friend!"
Nice girl: "Nooo, I'm nooot." (stomps off)
New girl: (in plaintive voice to nice girl's back) "But I want to be your friend!"
Oh, it was sad, folks. It was just sad and heartbreaking. And I bet every single one of you experienced some kind of horrifying flashback to elementary school days when you read that, didn't you?
The whole thing has got me to thinking about popularity and unpopularity and just how soon that imprint is made in life. It seems implausible that by age eight those lines could be drawn, but then I remember Mrs. Hendrix and my friend Margue. Back in the days before kindergarten became a work camp, we took naps. And Mrs. Hendrix always let some special girl be the Wake-Up Fairy when nap time was over (I'd explain more about the job, but the title seems self-evident). Weeeellll, it didn't take long for the rest of us girls to catch on to the fact that Mrs. Hendrix was choosing Margue just a tad too over-often for our tastes. Yep. At the tender age of five, Margue was already popular, and we weren't getting to be the cute girl who woke everyone up with a light tap of a wand. Not. Fair.
Fortunately, Margue was also an eminently likable girl, which helped take the sting out of the injustice. Not so the new 3rd-grade girl, I'm afraid, which means her future is likely set. It makes me sad for her, to see her so needy and hungry so young. I'd like to explain to her about how this works, how stalking isn't an attractive friendship quality and perhaps a different approach might yield better results, but I'm not sure it would matter. Poor thing.
5 comments:
I've always been puzzled by the whole social ostrasization thing that kids got going. It always seemed to me to be based on the most bizarre kinds of instincts and generalizations. Which may not be far off. Maybe, when we're children, we still operate off some ancient part of our brains that has to make quick value judgments for survival. And anything that seems like "other" in any way shape or form is to be automatically avoided. Still, I always found those fringe kids to be the most interesting.
at six, i was getting smooched in the coat nook by three different girls. by the middle of the next grade, i was a career fringe kid. never found the explanation. fringe kids seem free of that need for quick value judgements, yet in return they get "meh." do not buck the herd!
It's nice here, out on the fringe. The air is fresh, the sky wide, and I won't get trampled when the herd decides to spook.
this made my heart a little sad, still remember the nicknames, but the glory of the fringe is that I still have fabulous school friends.(ahem,A.W.)
Dear Doris "Fringe of the Fringe" Rose,
I consider myself to be a centrist member of the mainstream, nay, the POPULAR crowd! Kindly refrain from even intimating me into an alternative grouping with your wierd friends.
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