My Greatest Fear

Mama Kat's writing prompt for today:
Where does that fear come from? Write about something that frightens you that other people might find ridiculous.

Why does popularity matter?
Why is popularity something we seek?
Tucker tutors a few kids, most of whom don’t know him outside the tutoring experience. One day he made the comment, “If A knew me in real life, if he knew how uncool I really am, he’d never speak to me, let alone learn math from me.” That intrigued me, so I probed further. He explained that A is so far “out of his league,” and he could tell by the way he dresses, how he acts, even how he wears his hair. A is a rising football star—running back—but he struggles with math. If he doesn’t get his math grade up, he won’t be able to start as a ninth grader for the high school team next year. He’s that good.

My son is just as good at what he does. Trying to avoid embarrassing T and bragging too much, I can safely say that he’s gifted. But his social skills have lagged behind his intellect for much of his life, until the last little while. That made for a few rough years. But I can honestly say that he’s come out stronger and better.

I guess where I’m going with this is here: Why is it cool to be an athlete and not cool or acceptable to be a math whiz? I would have thought that this generation would have that mastered. Isn’t this the generation that’s been raised with racially equal Barney episodes--series that assemble a ragtag group that are required to include gender-equal representatives from the geek, jock, Goth, shy, music, and cool cliques? Just because it’s on TV and touted by the media, it’s real, right? IF this has been the example that they’ve been inundated with, why aren’t our teens “living the dream”? Do these dream groups actually exist?

My experience is no. Like attracts like and that’s the way we work. Why? Why can’t society change this? Why is it that some kids are always at the bottom of the social ladder, no matter how hard they try to be in the upper echelon?

God created us all different, that is a given. Why is it still not socially acceptable to be comfortable with who we are? And why is it that junior high and high school are riddled with these issues of popularity, cruelty, exclusion, and social acceptance?

And why is it that many of these teens that were the center of their high-school worlds grow up to be adults that still live in the past? And why is it that these gifted ones, who grow up to change the world—Einsteins, Van Goghs, Tchaikovskys—can’t find acceptance while young? And then, when they do succeed as adults, all the cool kids exclaim, “I remember her! We went to high school together!” when in actuality they tormented these gifted kids to the breaking point.

Why are people like this?

This desire to be included and popular doesn’t end with teenagers. Even as adults, we struggle with fitting in and getting attention. People achieve fame on some level, and the fame fuels a fire for more. Kate Gosselin claims she’s dancing with the stars for money. Not even a little for the attention? Come on. And even as adults there are still the cool circles and the not cool circles. Who determines this? Aren’t we all adults and equals?

Even though I consider myself a pretty secure person that rarely cares what others think, I must admit that, on some level,  I do care. Why didn’t my family get invited to that barbecue? Why does nienie have so many followers? Why does cjane get hundreds of comments on her posts? Are their lives so much more interesting and important than mine? Are they better writers? Why? And who says so?

We must be predetermined to insecurity--either insecurity or an innate desire to want more. To be more. When are these feelings healthy motivators to change and grow? And when are these feelings destructive and harmful?

All this discussion of popularity leads to one of my biggest fears: being on the outside looking in. Not being liked. Not being “cool.” I wrote a post about this exact issue last year—you can read it here. And I’m ready to challenge that fear in myself by doing something brave.

I’ve been blogging now for almost 18 months—this is post #321, to be exact. And never, in all that time, have I posted my followers on my sidebar. Part of me really wants to know who’s reading and following. But part of me is afraid that everyone will have more followers than me, and then I will care more about who’s following than what I’m trying to say.

But I’m ready to throw that insecurity--that fear--to the wind.

Go ahead. Follow me.