Everyone remembers it. It was the one place you secretly always wanted to be. Sure, you mocked them and sneered when anyone mentioned any of the few elite who were able to be in such a group. But in your head, you always pictured yourself sitting in the circle, laughing at their inside jokes, feeling like you were somewhere that mattered – even if you did hate all the people around you. It was the acceptance, the inclusion, the sense of community, even if parts of it are fake, that was so tantalizing.

In high school, it was the bane of your existence – taunting you every chance it got, simply because you were a nobody and had nowhere to be. But does the “cool kids table” disappear when high school’s over? Of course not. Just look at yourself, think about a group of people whom you publicly detest and constantly ridicule. Does it sting when you see one of their faces in your head? Can you picture the entourage together, laughing at things you say you don’t care about…but then you wonder what it is they’re actually talking about over there? That’s them. Those are the cool kids. They may not be the skinniest, the richest, the most chic or the most well-known where you’re at, but to you, they are the A-Crowd – the people to either be seen with or be weary of. And we all have them.

Don’t ask why this came on – I could explain, but (as I’m sure you would be, too,) I’m slightly ashamed at who my “cool kids” are. They are a group of people whom I’ve been warned are no good, whom I can see many as being shallow and unbalanced, but whom I still envy with everything inside of me for one reason: They have each other.

Group dynamic is not thought to be too terribly important until you are stripped of it. When we have a bunch of friends vying for our attentions, sure we want our alone time. But when you’re tossed into a place where you have no one but yourself, and if you’re lucky a close friend or two, you wish and wish that you had a backup squad. It’s hard to get through life all by yourself. Or, even if you’re not completely alone, there are limitations on individual friendships. You may be able to talk to Person A about thing 1 yet not thing 2, but you can tell Person B about thing 2 whenever you need to. And both A and B may be no good at a certain task (problem solving, algebra, etc), so when you need a hand there, you turn to Person C. To try and get through on your own is hard — it causes you to start blogs and vent to faceless, possibly non-existent people – like me.

So, who are your cool kids? And why aren’t you one of them? What is the force that stands between you and your A-crowd membership card? This is mostly rhetorical, of course, but think about it for a while. Who are the cheerleaders to your band geek?