I wrote this about a year ago, and it turned out to be my most visited and revisited post. Since school is in session again, summer break is over, I thought I’d re-blog this one for some of my new followers….with a few small additions.
If you’re a high school student, have a student, know a student…or are a teacher, have a teacher, or know a teacher…pass this along to them. It’s something that I wish I could have understood when I was stressing about prom, about boys, and about that teacher who just didn’t understand at all…
Enjoy.
Hang in there, the real world is actually not as cruel (no matter what they say)…
Dear Homecoming Queen,
I understand that you are busy with your cheerleading, sports, parties, and picking out a prom dress that matches your boyfriend’s earlobes or whatever it is that you’re currently obsessed with. I also understand that that prom dress, the boyfriend, and the tiara you won for homecoming are the CENTER of the universe. I even understand that to speak to the quiet girl in the hall with the locker next to yours would be a terrible inconvenience and possibly tarnish your very existence.
However, it doesn’t make you any prettier or more popular to laugh at her. It doesn’t buy you another date with the quarterback to leave her a fake note from a cute boy so that you and your friends can crush her spirits when you announce the prank to the cafeteria. It doesn’t make you somehow better to pat her on the head and tell her you just hate that she’s not you.
Have you ever thought that maybe being her friend wouldn’t take up any time, ruin your precious image, or cost a thing…but might just make you more worthy of that tiara? That maybe you could be someone to look up to for more than the fact that you carried an armful of roses across a football field?
Being a “Mean Girl” isn’t fun, or funny, or cool.
Dear Football Star,
I know right now the game is the biggest thing in your world and that being a star makes you a king in your universe. You’re also right that the geeky kid you just stole the clothes from and left naked in the locker room is about as macho as your girlfriend.
Did you know that making him cry doesn’t make you a man? It doesn’t even make you cool except in the eyes of your so-called friends (who would laugh the same way to see someone do the same to you).
Wouldn’t it be better to stand up for the guy and be a hero? It wouldn’t make you less of a star, but would get you a lot closer to the thing that people who are “all grown up” refer to as a real man.
Dear Teacher Who Forgot to Grow Up,
It may be fun to giggle and gossip with the popular kids as though you were one of them. It may also get you nominated for the favorite teacher awards at the end of the year.
But to the shy girl who just wants you to notice that she is terrified of the “group projects,” and the quiet boy who needs help understanding your jumbled notes on the board (jotted randomly in between announcements of parties and senior suppers)…it just makes you look sad.
You might not care what those sad little things think of you, but as a teacher shouldn’t you at least pretend to?
Dear Football Coach,
There is life beyond Friday night. That is all.
Dear Teacher that Gives a Damn,
You are a rare breed. You are the one who notices that the shy kid is considering dropping out of school because the final project is a group effort where the kids are “allowed” to pick their partners. You’re actually aware when there is a kid in class who never gets picked, never has a partner, never gets asked to the prom…and you give a shit.
You’re the teacher that gives that kid a camera and says the yearbook would love some creative pictures. You’re the one who arranges the group projects with a structure in mind to keep it fair to everyone. You’re the one who winks at the shy kid and promises that it will get better one day.
You’re the one that deserves the roses and the tiara and the trophies.
Dear Shy Girl in the Corner,
As much as you can, observe those cruel kids with objectivity and pretend they are primates you have to study for four long years. Interact with them, and take notes…and someday teach your daughters and sons compassion.
Four years is a long time, but not so long when compared to decades of leaving these people behind you. There IS a place in the world for you, and you get to go there and stay. These people who are in their element right now only have four short years to enjoy their reign before being tossed out into a cruel world that doesn’t care who they took to Prom.
Dear Girl without a Prom Date,
It’s just a gym full of balloons, weak punch, and bad music…with the same gossipy people standing around in the same groups, talking about the same things. You deal with that every day, if you decide not to put up with it in yards of itchy chiffon, it’s not a big loss.
Dear Boy who Never gets Picked in Gym,
Don’t worry about it, you have better things ahead of you than a 3 on 3 basketball game and a coach that doesn’t care about anyone but his so-called “stars.” You may not be big, you may not ever make a touchdown, but you will do something very cool…and it will probably be more lasting than these little games.
These days aren’t the best of your life, those are coming…and you can rest assured that those athletes’ days are numbered. Even the FEW of them that make it, that go on to college and pro, will still reach the end of their career in just a few short years. Whatever you choose to do, you can do as long as you want. Those sports freaks will be old and sidelined by the time they’re thirty.
Dear Foreign Exchange Student,
I’m sorry…I’m sure we advertized a whole different ball game.
Pen Happy Hippie 