By Mrissa
{Meet Mrissa, whom I met through friends who read and write science fiction and fantasy and go to conventions about it, like Minicon in Minneapolis. Mrissa originally posted these thoughts in a series of posts on her livejournal and I asked her to rewrite them together for this blog.}
At Minicon I was on a panel called “Geek, Be Not Ashamed”. Afterwards I posted about how a teenager was sitting in the back of the room during the panel, and I worried that the panel was not what she needed to hear, being from an adult perspective, for adults. If you’re going through a really awful high school, the things that will help you later in your life are not the things that will help you in high school; polite and slightly reticent dignity gets you absolutely nowhere in a bad high school. (On the other hand, maintaining a polite and slightly reticent dignity with people who dislike you can be its own reward.)
Someone was asking, in the comments to my post, what I’d recommend to someone going through a bad high school experience. What would help with that situation? It’s a good question. It’s one I’ve been thinking about. And I participated in Career Day at a local high school, so it’s got me thinking about that. And sure, like the man says, escape is a prisoner’s first duty — but nobody screws up high school so badly that they’re still a sophomore at 47. So there’s escape, but there’s also the consideration of how to do it so that you’ll be functional later. How to get free of it without chewing your leg off, so to speak. Not always easy.
Compliments were a major weapon at my high school. The barbed compliment, the sarcastic compliment, the compliment that turns on someone else present, the compliment that’s supposed to erase months or years of ill-treatment…and then the complimenter can turn to others and say, “I was just trying to be nice.” There was one girl at my high school — which was a pretty nasty one, although there were several salvageable experiences from it — who was clearly trying to be nice by her own standards. She wanted to be known as a nice person. She also wanted to be “popular,” in the high school sense of being in an in-crowd. And it did not occur to this kid that people would set the value of her attempted niceness much higher if she didn’t spend her time with some of the meanest people in the school. If the sort of people who would kick handicapped kids in their leg braces and make fun of the kids who could barely speak a sentence didn’t get a free pass from her on their behavior.
So I guess my first piece of advice for people trying to endure a toxic high school is to recognize that other people are having to live with the toxicity as well, and to be as kind as you can manage. Other people may not notice it. But it’ll be something you know about yourself. You don’t have to be indefinitely kind to people who are mean to you, but it might be useful to give people more than one chance; if they’re used to hearing, “Is that a good book?” with derisive snickers behind it, they may not be prepared to take it as a serious and congenial discussion question the first time around.
(This is not the same thing as being as nice as you can manage. Nice is a club you can give other people to beat you with. Nice conforms to local standards, particularly for girls. “Nice” may prevent you from taking a good swing at the guy who kicked the girl in her leg braces. “Kind,” on the other hand, may well tell you to go for it; sticking up for others can be very kind and well-remembered years later.)
When we as adults give advice to high school kids who are having a bad time at school, I think one of the ways it most easily goes wrong is that we make it sound like they ought to be able to do what we’re suggesting, rather than making it clear that it might be useful to them if they could. The phrase I’m thinking of here is, “Don’t let them bother you.” Also, “Don’t let them get to you,” or, “What do you care what they think?”
Of course it’s useful if you can simply not care whether people around you are being hostile and nasty. But really, how many of us as adults can, by sheer force of will, make it totally not matter that we’re spending forty hours a week with people who are willing to be as unpleasant as they can get away with? Not many. Not many of us as adults have to put up with that sort of thing. I have a friend who recently left a bad job, a situation in which people were relentlessly hostile to her and to each other for her entire work day, five days a week. It was extremely hard on her, not because she wanted to be cool or wanted them to be her best friends evAR!!!11!!1!, but because she is a human being, and that kind of toxic environment is hard on anyone.
I think we should be careful to make it clear to teenagers who are having a bad time at school that we’re not saying, “You should be able to do this; everyone can do this,” but rather, “Look, we’re focusing on you because you can’t control the other person. We know this is hard for most people, but it’s the best we can think of right now.”
And you can’t control the other people in your class. You really, really can’t. So fixating on “making them see” or “showing them” or “making them feel [whatever],” is not useful. The win condition is not that your high school classmates flock around you telling you how much they respected the theorem you just proved or the book you just wrote or the marketing decision you just made or the way you just handled your kid’s tantrum. The win condition is that you can only remember the names of the ones who were kind and/or interesting to you. The win condition is that when you get news of something terrible happening to someone who smeared Ben Gay all over your friend’s locker or pushed another friend down the stairs or any of the other lovely things that happened in high school, you are not glad. Because you’re not just a bigger and better person than that, you’re so much bigger and better and have moved on with your life so far that you had to stop and think why that name sounded familiar. That’s what winning looks like.
So how do you move towards that win condition while you’re still in high school? I don’t know entirely; anyone with suggestions should feel totally welcome in the comments section. But I will note that the people I know who got through high school the happiest, healthiest people — even if it was a good high school — were mostly the ones who had other things outside school with which they strongly identified themselves. For a lot of them it was something computer-related, but that’s probably a major skew because of the type of people I know.
For me there was writing, and there was my piano, and both of those things were ways in which I could challenge myself and do interesting things that had nothing to do with school. I also had a bunch of pen-pals, which would probably translate to something internettish these days, but the point is, there were people who knew me and liked me and didn’t care what so-and-so said to me in gym because they would only find out what so-and-so said if I could make it an entertaining story to tell them, or if I needed to vent.
We stick kids in this environment and make it their major point of identity, which is disorienting enough at the end if the kids involved are in a good high school. When it’s a bad one, we’re strongly encouraging them to define themselves through something that makes them miserable. This is not healthy. It’s not okay. And even something as simple as, “I’m someone who likes to go fishing with my cousins in the summer,” or, “I’m someone who grows cucumbers,” is a better way to identify oneself than, “I’m the verbal punching bag for Mrs. X’s third period.”
By the time you’re in high school, having parents “put you in” a karate class or an archery class or a pastry-cookery class is not a good thing; if it’s not what you’ve chosen, it’s more of being shuffled around at other people’s whim, which is not something you’re exactly short on in high school. But sitting down and thinking to yourself, “What would be interesting to me apart from graduation requirements and college applications and dodging the jerks at school? What do I want to be able to do?” might be a good start. Everyone has to build a life that’s irrelevant of the structures of high school eventually. Everyone has to find an identity that doesn’t involve where your locker is or who you sit with in the cafeteria. No reason not to start as soon as you can.