Back in High School

Currently on Facebook my friends have been tagging one another with a note comparing their high school lives to their current lives. The questions ask you to compare what you do now to what you did in high school and are generally fun to read. One of the questions though -- If you could go back and do it again, would you? -- always makes me cringe. For many years the thought of going back to high school and doing it all over again made me laugh because the answer would have been a resounding "No way in Hell!" It's not that I had a bad high school experience, but I was not one of the popular girls and always felt like I didn't fit in. Now that I'm older and, perhaps, a bit wiser, I might consider doing it all over again. Mainly because I've since learned that most women felt exactly the same way in high school. But also because living in Suburbia is in many ways like being back in high school.

In Suburbia, like high school, there cliques and belonging to the "popular" crowd is a matter of fitting in. You have to dress the right way, drive the right car, belong to the right organizations, send your kids to the right preschools, etc. When your accepted, it feels great. Women acknowledge you in public, invite you to parties and special gatherings. But, just like high school, when you're not accepted, you're ignored and made fun of. I'll never forget one of my first introductions to this world. Showing up to chaperone a field trip, I did not know a single person. I decided to be proactive and make friends. I went up to the other moms -- most of whom already knew each other -- and tried to get in on the conversation. Not a single person would talk to me. And worse, the conversation centered around tennis and skiing -- two activities I do not participate in. It wanted to leave and considered doing so, until one very nice mom came up to me and smiled. She took pity on me and I thank her for it -- I almost went back home to pack up the family and leave town. During the field trip, I didn't give up. I approached at least 3 of the women and forced them to have a conversation with me, mainly one-on-one. Generally we were more alike than different, but once the field trip was over, the connections were over. Over the years I've seen these women at one time or another and each time I'm once again invisible.

The most maddening aspect of this phenomenon is that one-on-one, most women in Suburbia are pleasant and decent human beings, but when they get into their cliques or they begin to believe the hype about themselves....watch out! Suddenly the claws come out.

So upon further reflection, bring high school on! It might not be so bad the second time around.

Beep! Beep!

"We have become a nation of self-important people."
Tucker Carlson, MSNBC

Tucker and I do not agree on much, particularly when it comes to politics, but I completely agreed with this statement when I heard it. Recently I was driving around a parking lot looking for a parking spot when I came upon a car blocking the flow of traffic. A woman I was acquainted with was putting her child in the car, her husband was driving. She then proceeded to talk with her husband, all the time holding up traffic. At first I was annoyed, the weather was lousy, I was in a bit of a hurry, but I took a deep breath and realized that another 30 seconds wouldn't kill me. But as I was waiting another car came up behind and was not nearly as patient and honked his horn. My acquaintance looked up at me and instantly thought I had honked. She was annoyed, but 1) I didn't do anything and 2) she was holding up the flow of traffic (and taking her time I might add). A minute later, her husband pulled out and the traffic flowed again. End of issue, right? The next day she approached me and asked "Did you know that was ME in the parking lot yesterday?" I explained that I knew it was her, but the car honking was not mine, but as I told her this I couldn't believe she was annoyed at me for her own rudeness! She was holding up traffic, I was sitting in my car waiting patiently. What difference did it make if it was her or someone she considered a nobody?

Are people with more social status allowed to inconvenience others? Sadly, I think the answer is "yes", as a society we allow some people to be rude and act self-absorbed. Look at celebrities. There are different rules for how they're treated and how the average Joe is treated at restaurants, stores, theaters, etc. Celebrities don't have to wait for tables. Us nobodies have to wait, sometimes even when we have a reservation.

The real question is, how do we stop this behavior? How do we get people to realize that their time is NOT more important than the person in front of them? We all have busy lives and we all deserve to be treated with respect, regardless of who we are.

Gym Rats

Women in Suburbia look great. They’re all thin, well dressed and have beautifully coiffed hair. Sometimes it’s downright depressing. You rarely see a woman with real hips and curves, let alone an overweight woman. For a long time I could not figure out their secret, but then I joined a gym.

Let me rewind by saying that prior to taking a full-time job outside the home, I was a stay-at-home mom for 10 years. I felt very fortunate to be able to do this, but it wasn’t without some sacrifice. I had to give up luxuries like nice clothes, manicures, expensive haircuts and gym memberships. I enjoyed exercise, but couldn’t afford to go to a gym and found it hard to find the time to workout on my own with two small kids. Then there was the issue of taking care of my kids. I believed that since I was at home it was my job to take care of them. I rarely passed them off to babysitters. When I did it was never for “me time”. In an attempt to get some exercise I walked, but as I got older it did little to keep the pounds off. Once I went back to work and my kids were older and more self reliant, I realized that I needed to get back into some type of real exercise routine. I decided to take a yoga class and this introduced me to the world of corporate wives and their insane workout routines.

When I say insane, I mean these women workout three,sometimes four, hours a day! Some have nannies at home for their little ones and others bring their kids along to the free babysitting provided for members. Now I will admit, since joining I have become much more of a gym rat. I take classes whenever I can, but it averages out to about 1 hour each day and most of the classes I take are yoga classes. These women are typically not taking yoga, they are taking hardcore cardio classes like kickboxing and spinning and the occasional pilates class (for rock hard abs). They are so intense about their workouts that the gym has had near riots because of the signups required for spinning classes. Spinning, you may or may not know, burns more calories than just about any other workout routine, thus the crazed need to be on that 9:00 am spinning list. Rarely will they be bothered with an exercise class that does not burn calories or sculpt their bodies, regardless of the long-term health benefits.

Over time I learned more and more about these exercise obsessed moms. Beyond the three hour workouts, many of them get Botox, often as a group. (I will admit as I write this, I am violently opposed to injecting poison into anyone’s body for the sake of wrinkle reduction.) Then I also learned about the cosmetic surgery that so many have had. Who knew?

I’m not free of vanity – I want to look good – but at this point in my life being healthy and feeling good is much more important than trying to look young forever. I now take great pride in my imperfect, 41 year old body because despite the fact that it’s not a size two, it’s healthy and free of botulism.

My Brilliant Child

Why do so many suburban parents think their children are brilliant and getting ripped off by their local schools? It’s not that I don’t believe that their children are smart. They should be! They have access to so many educational resources – more than most kids. Their kids spend their days AND nights going from one stimulating activity to the next. I also don’t take issue with parents advocating for their children, but at a certain point, you have to realize that your kids are very fortunate.

My local public schools are, in my opinion, wonderful. Are they perfect? No. There have been times when I've disliked a teacher, a classroom or even a school. I have, on occasion, complained about something or made a suggestion to a teacher about an issue I felt strongly about. But generally speaking – I believe my children are receiving a top-notch education. I am constantly amazed by what my children are learning – Algebra in elementary school, Kafka and Aristotle in high school. So often though, I hear complaints from parents about their child not receiving the education they deserve because they are so much smarter than the other kids. I hear comments like, “Jimmy is soooo bored in class” or “Betty finds her schoolwork much too easy” or, my personal favorite, “I am so upset that the school doesn’t have a gifted program” because, of course, their child would be an instant candidate for such a program.

Let’s put this all in perspective. Throughout the world and in some parts of this country children have to attend substandard schools. To become enlightened on this issue read Three Cups of Tea – many villages in countries around the world do not have the resources to build real schools with real teachers. In other countries, children cannot attend school unless they can afford a school uniform and books. This is a problem for a child with no money and/or parents no longer living because of war or HIV. Saddest of all, some children don’t get to be children at all. I’m talking about the children sold into prostitution, forced to work in toy and rug factories or turned into soldiers of war.

Brilliance shines through even without a gifted program. I’ve heard so many stories of incredibly intelligent individuals whose thirst for knowledge or natural brilliance pushed them on to excellence despite their local schools, not because of them. They lived at their local library, were inspired by an adult who believed in them or walked 5 miles to school in their African village. Their parents, if present in their lives, didn’t have the luxury of complaining to their local school board.

As I mentioned before, I’ve been less than thrilled with a teacher now and then, but at some point you have to tough it out and be thankful – very thankful – when you have access to a top ranked public school system.

Who's that foreign exchange student?

I often feel like a misfit. My current situation, in an upscale New England suburb is only one in a long line of situations that make me wonder where I fit in. I was born in Greece but moved to Iowa when I was school age. What, pray tell, would possess anyone to transplant their family to Iowa? Good question, but of course there is reasonable explanation. My father is Greek, my mother, well.... my mother is a Midwestern WASP(for lack of a better description – think Chuck Grassely, the senator from Iowa), thus the family connection and roots. People all over the world want to live the “American Dream” and to a Greek, like my father, Iowa was as good a place as any to try.

My life growing up wasn't terrible, just unique. Although I often felt like everyone else, situations would pop up to remind me of how different I was. First there was my last name. It was long, even by Greek standards. My first realization that I was different was 2nd grade. I could not for the life of me learn how to spell my own last name! My teacher become so frustrated with me, she wrote it out on a piece of paper, laminated it and taped it to my desk. It worked, but I was mortified. No one else had their name taped to the top of their desk.

The other issue was my Mediterranean looks. If you've never been to Iowa, the first thing you notice as soon as you step off the plane is that half the population is blond. I am not blond or blue eyed. I am, by most Midwestern standards, exotic looking, despite the facts that (1) I don't look typically Greek (at least to another Greek) and (2) I look very much like my WASP mother, expect for the darker features. I always got the ethnic roles in high school plays. One year I was Liat in South Pacific, the next year I was Rose Alvarez in Bye, Bye Birdie. I also never ever felt “beautiful”. I thought my exotic looks and curvy shape were a curse. I wanted blond hair, blue eyes and a boyish figure like all my friends.

Another time, again in high school, I was approached by a boy from another school at a basketball game. He wanted to introduce me to the foreign exchange student as his school. The exchange student, we'll call him Jan, was Swedish. I said “thanks” for the introduction but was confused as to why I was being introduced. The boy said he thought we'd have a lot in common since I too was an exchange student. I was in shock! At the time I didn't have an accent and had lived in my hometown since the age of 8! But I looked like an exchange student. How else could someone like ME end up in such a white bread community if not by the sheer gratitude of a family hosting me there?

Fast forward 25 or so years: I am married and no longer have to deal with the ridiculously long last name and I've come to terms with my body, my hair, my eyes. I no longer long for those WASPy features - I'm okay, if not thankful, for who I am. Also, the state of Iowa has radically changed. Since my leaving in the early 90s, the state has experienced an influx of immigrants searching for the “American Dream”, much like my own father. Let us not forget that it was Iowans who set Barack Obama on a serious course to the Presidency by giving him a caucus victory. You'd think the people in the state would be more enlightened, if not at least a little more accustomed to the larger world beyond their borders. I thought so too until very recently when my sister had a conversation with someone inquiring about her last name. This person wondered if she might be related to someone with the same last name who was a foreign exchange student in her high school. My sister's curiosity was peaked – our name is very rare, we must be related to this person! I think she was actually excited to find a long lost relative. With some probing my sister discovered that the exchange student she was referring to was.............. none other than one of us, or perhaps the two of us morphed into one! My sister and I had gone from being a bit of an oddity in our hometown to one person, to small town myth.

Lucky Pooch!

I currently reside in a very nice suburban community near Boston. The town is beautiful and has wonderful schools – thus the move to the suburbs. I feel fortunate to live in such a place, but there are times that I want to grab the person in front of me and shake them! The life in towns such as mine sometimes borders on the ridiculous. I find myself wondering if my fellow suburbanites realize that most of the country, let alone the world, does NOT live the lifestyle to which we are accustomed. Sometimes they seem overly concerned about whether their brilliant child is being “challenged” enough in school to realize that kids in some parts of the world don't even have a school in their village. I realize that everything is relevant, but sometimes the concerns of the average suburbanite are absurd.

Case in point – I recently attended a social gathering where the discussion turned to dog food. Not the type you buy, but rather what type of human food you could safely give to Fido without endangering his long-term health. One woman was concerned about feeding dogs the food that we corrupt with all our seasonings, chemicals etc. She was quite adamant about this and considered feeding a dog human food the equivalent of a death sentence. A second woman was quick to point out that she cooks her dog his own steak each day to make sure that it's pure and unadulterated. Yes, she cooks her family meal and then makes Fido a steak. Others chimed in about the special, yet healthy, treats they cooked for their beloved dogs. This went on for a good 15 minutes. I wanted to laugh out loud! Were the people around me really having this discussion? At the time of this “debate” we were smack dab in the middle of an economic crisis, still knee deep in two wars and were about to inaugurate the country's first African American president – it seemed as if there might be better things to debate. Never mind that no one seemed concerned about the long-term health problems associated with feeding this corrupted food to their human family members.