Gubbish.

Since I've been in College, I have become increasingly aware of High School Social Roles. The full weight of my realisation came when I visited my brother's youth group on Friday. The social structure there was frighteningly clear; it was like watching a band of gorillas or lions in their natural habitat. There was a core of extroverts, with King Curtis sitting in the middle. Curtis is the coolest kid there, the funniest, the most charismatic, the most handsome. On his left were the girls, dressed in the brightest colours they could find, giggling and flirting and falling over one another. Jesters. On his right were the boys, lounging and joking about AIDS and The Gays, all wearing black jackets, white Tshirts, and blue jeans. And on the perimeter were the people who knew they would never belong. There were the Girls Who Acted Like Guys, the ones who wore dull clothing and never screamed. There were the Guys Who Acted Like Girls, who didn't want to be offensive and refrained from saying anything. And there were the Old People like me, who had grown out of the hierarchy and could now look on from the outside. None of us could socialise with the core. Even within the core, relationships were strained. There were introverts peppered here and there, who would only be talked to if other people were forced to acknowledge them. If girls wanted to interact with guys, there had to be a degree of separation there. They could never be on the same playing field. Converstion topics were narrowed and gendered. If a girl talked about anything other than her clothes or her pets, the converstion would die for a second and then get redirected towards one of those two subjects. And if a guy talked about anything personal, anything that even remotely hinted at vulnerability, he would immediately retract it with a "just kidding" and keep on joking.

I am so glad to be out of High School.