Way back in my high school days, I was vaguely aware of the Clique. Since I knew several of the Clique from my pudgy, pimply junior high and grade school days I was not intimidated by them; they were just people who happened to have it all, except blemishes. There were a few in the Clique who treated my friends and I like road kill, but then again they treated everybody like road kill--why should we be exempt?
I never considered my group of friends a clique. We moved about on the fringes, taking in the strays--the really sad classmates who had no one (some for good reasons!); hob-knobbing with the rich and famous, with the smart and the silly, trying to give everybody a shot at being happy for awhile. We were free spirits in some ways. We rarely went dateless; we had our own lunch table, we went to dances and basketball games and pep rallies and French Club en masse. There were a few in the Clique whom I envied--I wouldn't have been a normal kid if I hadn't. There were a few whom I wanted to emulate, a few whom I despised for their better-than-you attitude and one on whom I had a massive crush that never was resolved. Oh, well.
As the years have passed, I have discovered some basic truths about the Clique, as well as about myself. First of all, they were in the Clique because, well, they "clicked" with the others in the group. It might have been the desire to be with others as smart, as popular, as talented. It might have been childhood friendships that continued and the comfortable camaraderie stayed. Hey! Wait a minute! Isn't that why my friends were my friends?
Secondly, the Clique seemed to move as one, from football to music to mayhem. From an outsider's point of view they were more alike than different. They were rich (no, they weren't), they were smart (not necessarily), they had a famous parent (nada), they had fast cars (occasionally) and a desire to belong. Oh, for pity's sake, that sounds like my friends.
Third, I guess, is that they were comfortable in their own skins, exuding confidence wherever they showed up. Aye, there it is. This select group had confidence as its ally, many of them learning early on who they were and what they wanted (or having been told what they wanted, believed it at the time). That's what separated us, clique from wanna-be.
As I open my eyes today, I no longer see the Clique. I see people who live and die, are rich and not-so. I see long-lived marriages like my own, or stacks of two, three and more relationships. I see general equivalency diplomas from high school and strings of letters after classmates' names. I see drunkards and addicts, successes and mega-successes. I see those who are well-loved and those who are not. I see the fella of the massive crush, bouncing from marriage to marriage and job to job and am grateful it ended before it started. Funny, isn't it, how Life sorts us into groups, then into other groups, till the lines between "Clique" and "not-Clique" blend and morph into one-size-fits-all?
The truth is, the Clique was then, Life is NOW. When we look back to high school or college or even a few years past, we need to look beyond what was and see what is. Times change, people change. Some came out from under their bushel baskets later in life, some bloomed early, some will never see the flowers because they are still chasing a rainbow (bet you didn't know anybody who could mix all those metaphors in one sentence, huh?).
Today I no longer need to be them because they are us. We have grown up (at least most of us have), and should be able to look past the Vuiton and the Prada, or the WalMart and the Target; we should see not the wrinkles or the pounds but the inner light. We are different; we are the same. Maybe today we will "click". Then again, maybe not.
I can't say that being outside, looking in to the Clique, was a heart-wrenching experience. I was too naive and too busy to be a part of the inner circle. In the years since, there have been the inner circles of which I've been a part and it isn't a big deal. I am content on the fringes, being the trim on somebody else's shawl. Without me, their lives would be so plain! (OK, even I can see that was a bit of a stretch.)
Today there is only an eensy bit of envy for those who have achieved what I have only dreamed of. One day when I said as much to an old classmate and friend, she said to me, " I envied you!" Imagine that. While I saw her successful career, Mustang and cheerleader energy, she saw my marriage, my sons and my shiny new Sun Coupe. There's a lesson there somewhere. There always is.
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