When I was in middle school back in the day, all I wanted was a pair of Jordache jeans like the cool girls. I longed to be accepted into the clique and thought if I could just have those jeans, maybe they would let me in. Middle school can tough that way. I was chatting with three middle school girls the other day and one of them pointed out that their group had been excluded from "the clique". I asked her why she and her friends didn’t just form their own exclusive club. She didn’t have an answer. I didn’t either, in my experience popularity is elusive. It’s hard to figure out why some kids are in and some kids are out.
Those left-out feelings sometimes invade my adult life. A week or so later, I was walking from the parking lot to pick up my daughter and started chatting with the mother of one of my daughter’s classmates, the one Michelle frequently asks about. Let’s call he “Mary”. “Mary has bows for her hair, can I get bows for my hair? Mary has earrings, can I get earrings?"
We arrived at the pick-up spot and ran into Helen’s mom (Helen is also a favorite kindergarten trend-setter.) The three of us chatted for a bit about the weather and getting in some outside time before it got cold. Then Helen’s mom turned to Mary’s mom and said, “What are you guys doing on Monday?” Mary’s mom mentioned a few things and then Helen’s mom turning away from me, and without changing her volume, said, “Helen misses Mary so much we were hoping you could bring her over to play on Monday. Helen has been talking about nothing else. We can talk about plans for [the groups] event.”
I felt a gut response, sadness that Michelle wasn’t included in this play date but, also a more insidious jolt of jealousy. The same left-out, not quite good enough feeling that nagged me so long ago. A longing to be popular and be included with the cool kids and trend setters. The pretty girls with the bows in their hair. I reminded myself that these were just two moms trying to fill an empty afternoon Michelle. Mary and Helen were just two little girls who enjoy spending time together. They were not more "popular" than us. As Michelle and I walked back to the car Helen ’s mom made cheerfully conversation, but the sadness and inadequacy in the pit of my stomach remained. I was transported back to my junior high school self with the home perm and the wrong jeans. I stewed and fretted as we went to get Michelle’s new glasses but, by the time we were finished and Michelle had a bubble gum ice cream cone in hand, the feeling had passed. I was back in the present enjoying the day with my girl.
When we got home Michelle was thrilled with her new glasses and the bows I had picked up for her. She went off to her room to style her own hair. I didn’t tell her that Mary’s mom did Mary’s hair for her, brushing, smoothing and making the part straight. She came back with 4 bows cascading down her tousled, sideways pony-tail and exuberantly stated, “Mommy, I am so beautiful!”
Her happiness and confidence (and my lack of it) got me wondering. Why had I had such a visceral response to this benign incident? Why does popularity exist? What makes some kids popular? And how are some kids able to declare themselves beautiful outside the social order?
Research suggests that even though it isn’t always good for us we are hard-wired to seek popularity. I am sure there is some evolutionary reason for this and I find it comforting that the desire to be popular isn’t unique to me. The research examines two types of popularity: likability and status-seeking. One is health, the other toxic. Status-seeking popularity emerges in early adolescence and seems to originate in our more primitive brains. Status seeking kids gain popularity by securing dominance and influence, disparaging others and with aggression. While this may be useful for short term popularity, these adolescents develop into adults who have trouble developing secure relationships and are at increased risk for addiction. Likability, on the other hand, emerges at much younger ages. This healthy form of popularity is exemplified by respecting others, sharing and cooperating, and helping other members of the group to feel good about themselves. Skills that we can teach young children and help them to practice.
I would love to wrap this up with a wonderful story about getting my Jordache jeans or my daughter getting invited to play with Helen and Mary. Instead, I continue looking for the perfect pair of jeans to secure my spot at the “cool kids’ table” and Michelle is figuring out how to make her own friends. Last week when I picked her up, I saw Mary and Helen leaving together holding hands and talking about their playdate. Michelle came running, chasing a scruffy little boy who was wearing a ninja tee-shirt, rainbow unicorn pants and sneakers with sparkly laces. They ran ahead and around each other laughing as I marveled at how she is making her own way.