Part Of The Class

Think back to when you were young, and it was around the time of "back to school."
Back to school, ugh. I'm wondering how many other posts are currently out there in the blogworld based on back to school. You know, like during Christmas. Odds are the posts will most likely be all about Christmas.

But nevertheless, back to school. the only thing that got you through those times were the fun trapper keepers, colorful brown paper bag, neon colored textbook coverings, and your new school wardrobe and shoes. After that first week back, or first three days back, based on how many new clothes you had to wear to show off, the novelty of being back in the chalk filled rooms of knowledge wore off quickly.

In no time at all the usual cliques would begin to show their multiple faces, on schedule, just like they do every year before that. I'm talking more so the girl groups versus the guys. When I was young, there really wasn't ever an obvious mean pack of boys that flew around together like a swarm of African Killer bees. Usually there was the set male bully, the set real smart one, the artistic one, the heavyset one, the one that had to carry around an inhaler and the one that could accomplish every athletic challenge given to them even with their eyes closed. But even with the diversity of the group of guys, they still managed to hang out together. Sure the boys were mischievous and enjoyed teasing and mocking, but even the smart one, or the one that was bound for claratin and a pollen plug, did engage in the general male form of teasing, joking around, and playing tricks on one another. It was an even playing field of social growth. From a girl's eyes, that is.

The girls in the class on the other hand, seemed to be grouped in different sections based on one group of girls that set the rules for the rest of them. To this day I wonder what the hell the teachers were doing while all of this was going on. Didn't they see this? Or was it typical? Why didn't they try to break it up? Why did they encourage this clique by making them desk partners and library buddies? As a young girl it blew my mind watching this play take form on the social stage of catty girls. But then again, I'm just one student. Or rather, I was just one student in one school that happened to be a private school where you pretty much had the same classmates for the duration of your Kindergarten through 8th grade life.

Maybe it was different in the public schools by you. I do remember watching the public school crews through the bus window, as our bus pulled into the drive to drop off that group at the elm street public junior high. I remember seeing the exact same things I dealt with in my school, only there were more girls and more cliques. So the answer was this, where I grew up, no matter what school you went to, there was still a very obvious form of cliques, clacks and cabbage patch Xavier whacks.

I couldn't wait to grow up and get out of that arena. I used to lay in bed at night dreaming of how beautiful things will be when I'm an adult. When girls were all equal. Because we would all have boobs, hairy beavers, curves, and blue eyeliner with foundation lips. I couldn't wait to be a grown woman when we would all be wives, mothers with worn out nipples from the many months of multiple nursings.

As a girl curled up in my holly hobby sheets and my rainbow comforter, I knew that when it was over, we we would all treat each other as equals. When girls turned into women, all those things that the main cliques made necessary would cease to exist. You wouldn't walk into school and hear the new phrases that these girls swore they created the night before in their sleep. Created words uttered by the thrones such as: "Barf bag," "barf me out," "penis breath,"dick brain," "eat shit and die," hoser," "joystick,"to the max." They'd be the first to introduce the newest trend or fad before it even made it to Hollywood; swatches, friendship pins in your always white keds, mascara created beauty moles, puff paint, big hair bows, scrunch socks, rubber bracelets, parachute pants, and even multi colored rubber bands for your braces. You'd know their station wagons by the trendy "Baby on Board" signs, their homes by the perfect boom box sitting alongside the biggest piece of cardboard you could ever break dance to, the Rubik cube that was "solved," (actually they just figured out how to peel off the colored stickers or pull it apart).

The point is, whatever the fashion, fad or trend, the cool group always started it. It drove me nuts because I never understood the point of it all. Not the trends themselves, I loved all of that, but rather the way these girls expected to be acknowledged, credited, for it all. Almost as if they expected royalties for their discovery of the local Arcade. It wasn't anything until it was uttered out of their glitter colored lips-not to mention Aqua Net, Infusium (it will stain your t-shirts) styled crimped hair.

I couldn't wait for those pathetic promotions to end when we all grew up.

Here I am now, like the rest of them, a wife, a mother, a woman with worn out nipples, shaved armpits and legs, curves and,...well, a grown up. Finally we're all equals. Guess what? I was so wrong. Wives and mommies are still creating the promotional hoopla, looking for recognition for whatever has been uttered out of their recently injected puffy lips. Especially around the time of going back to school. Today, I see more grown women still on stage in those age old cliques, then I do regarding the young girls of this day and age. I'm not saying that the young girls of today aren't experiencing the growing pains of cliques, trends and popularity contests because that will always be part of a girls life unfortunately. What I'm saying is the moms of today still manage to barf me out with their antics. When it comes to back to school it's in the form of this: mass emails sent out to all the other moms of the back to school kids, so anxious to find out what teacher your son or daughter was given as well as who is in the class alongside your child. Did the wild disruptive kid that can't write his name end up back in your class? Or, G-d forbid. did your child end up in the classroom of the nasty cranky 2nd grade teacher? Moms of today care more about who's who in 2nd grade then even the kids. You don't see their children walking around pissy that they're not in the same class as the rest of their neighborhood pals. Actually, if you're up for it, take a look out your bus window at the scene. You'll see these very moms on the phone, on email, on text, bitching about the fact that their kid isn't in the same class as the rest of the group that they hang out with. The martini drinking, best and known and most desired to live in subdivision, most notably involved, breast enhanced mommies.



Maybe it's just the town I live in.
But I haven't given up hope just yet! As I lay in bed at night, the dog and three sons the pages in between Brian and I, I think about how we'll all be equals when we are in the Grandma stage of our life someday. I just know, that when we become Grandmas, when we all have no choice but to DEPEND on each other to find our teeth, to remind us that our Grammy panties and bifocals are on backwards, it will be then that we will all be equal. Until then, I'll enjoy the ride, laugh about the cattiness of it all, and stand up to any drama momma that even attempts to act better then the rest of us.