<p>New York Magazine's cover story this week is an interesting read...</p>
<p>"The conventional wisdom used to be that ages 0 to 3 were the key to future success. But new research suggests that adolescence may play an even more important role in shaping the selfand that there might be no more damaging place to spend those years than high school."</p>
<p>Why</a> You Never Truly Leave High School -- New York Magazine</p>
<p>I will read with a fine tooth comb later, but this really stood out to me…</p>
<p>“Princesses are caught up in this external world that defines who they are,” says Eccles, “whereas if brainy girls claim they’re smart, that probably is who they are”</p>
<p>I found the article interesting. I guess I was fortunate enough to be from a large enough HS to be able to find a like minded group of friends and must have just been one of the “normals”, who flew under the radar. I have never been to a HS reunion and have few HS friends on FB, not because of some type of lingering trauma or shame, but just because I have no real attachment to HS years. Interesting read. If the quote above is true, I am glad I have a D who would rate herself as brainy.</p>
<p>The princess/brainy girl comments stood out to me too but for a different reason. Why is it assumed that pretty/popular and smart are mutually exclusive?</p>
<p>Wow, this is an intriguing article. I can’t comment about reflecting on HS years as I’m still in it but the part about rejecting/accepting various ‘ideas’ about oneself in order to create an identity is quite salient. Honestly, I found middle school to be a more abusive experience but I think my old HS was perhaps more nerdy than a typical school. </p>
<p>Also, the creation of a social order and the attempt to define where one stands with in it and teenage ineptitude with regards to emotion-reading vs. being with more adults was interesting. With the former three phenomenons + increased feeling of emotions, I think people may feel more pressured to be in one group and indeed, let it define them.<br>
This is somewhat tangential, but I just finished reading this article: [There’s</a> More to Life Than Being Happy - Emily Esfahani Smith - The Atlantic](<a href=“There's More to Life Than Being Happy - The Atlantic”>There's More to Life Than Being Happy - The Atlantic) and it’s given me a lot to think about.</p>
<p>Anyway, some of the data correlations/guesses that are made seem a little suspicious to me, but the ideas are fascinating.</p>
<p>@FallGirl</p>
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<p>The study was in the context of character archetypes as defined by The Breakfast club- students were asked to choose which of the identities they best fit in with at 15/16 (10th grade) and then it was followed up at the age of 24.</p>
<p>I think the princess/brainy part was based on how the HSers described themselves. So if someone rated themselves as “princessy” versus “brainy”, this could be true. I did not see any mention of a rating for “princess/brainy combo”. I would hope that brainy women would value their intellect more than their looks, if they had to pick between the two. But, as mentioned above, by Fallgirl, they are certainly not mutually exclusive.</p>
<p>I read the article and knew that, I have also seen the movie. I dislike the idea that people can be put into 5 categories. Most people I knew in HS would fit into “none of the above”.</p>
<p>I knew girls in HS who were both brainy and beautiful and the ones I knew very much valued their intellect. And that was 40 years ago!</p>
<p>Fallgirl- I agree that the limited, strict, categories to describe HSers, could skew the actual outcomes for the purpose of the study. I guess the overall message is that for some HSers, HS can be very emotionally and psychologically damaging place to find yourself. In my case, I just did not find this to be true in the time I went to HS, despite not being popular and also never feeling victimized. I am sure others’ experiences could be different from mine and both experiences could be true. I guess this is why it was an interesting read. Thanks for sharing.</p>
<p>I know many too, lol - I guess 5 categories is pretty narrow but you have to cap it somewhere?</p>
<p>I think most of us would categorize ourselves as straddling a couple categories, but we’re now adults reflecting back. I don’t know that we can accurately realize what we would have said in high school in the moment. For my kids, I had a normal and a true jock and one that I really can’t categorize but I’m guessing he would say he was "none’, but I will say that my “jock” has the highest self esteem, is the most confident, has the most leadership skills and is the most outgoing (in high school). The other two have now morphed into more adult personas that are blended.</p>
<p>The best thing I remember about high school was the way all the tightly defined groups loosened up in senior year, and it didn’t matter if you were a jock or a goth or a nerd – you all wanted to hang out with each other because you realized you’d soon be off to different colleges and that physically proximity wouldn’t be something you could take for granted again.</p>
<p>Then I moved to an affluent suburb, and it’s like high school all over again – with plenty of alpha girls who live to ignore and be rude to other people to shore up their own fragile identity. It’s like high school, but nobody graduates.</p>
<p>Reading articles like these make me feel so grateful that I went to a high school as big as the one I did. There was no such thing as the “popular” crowd and you could easily be in multiple “cliques”. I would have been in 10th grade in 07 and I don’t know what I would have put myself in if asked those categories. I was a varsity athlete, high GPA and ACT student, who hung out with the goths/druggies and wore all black. </p>
<p>Interesting article. What REALLY surprised me was that male jocks had the highest self-esteem. The stereotype seems to be that the “jocks” burn out and end up in miserable lives. I just have to go by movies and such for that though because, like I said, the stereotypes didn’t really exist or weren’t noticed at my high school so I can only go off of stereotypes.</p>
<p>For my HS, I noticed the jocks stopped coming after the 5 year reunion…</p>
<p>Interesting article. I was not involved when in HS went to classes, got the grades and got out the doors ASAP.</p>
<p>For my D, she was very engaged and had a great HS experience as a smart, attractive jock with her teammates being her best friends from 5th-12th grade and they all still “love” each other. She’s playing the same sport in college and so far (freshman), looks like she might have a similar experience there. Ready to see how this translates into her adult years.</p>
<p>If your name is Jennifer Senior I guess you are stuck in high school. </p>
<p>And not a very good writer.</p>
<p>Parents whose kids are a part of the popular crowd have a very different perception of high school society than other parents. It is hard to see the nastiness if your kid sits at the top of the social hierarchy. (This is not a comment directed at anyone on this thread, just a general observation based on parents and kids in my neighborhood.) </p>
<p>“It’s like high school but nobody graduates.”. Spot on! Life in the burbs can be brutal.</p>
<p>The biochemical aspect of why the high school experience is so salient was interesting. But the social categories selected for that study are inadequate. I don’t like the one labeled “normal,” because most people consider themselves to be “normal” whether their peers would describe them as that way or not. Also, there is no male equivalent for “princesses”. The jock group doesn’t really fit the bill, because there can be female jocks too but not really male princesses–unless we’re referring to some alternative lifestyle category in which far fewer men would fit than would women in the princess category. Wouldn’t we need a “hunk” category or something similar? There were those guys who were the cute hearthrobs, and not all of them were jocks.</p>
<p>Lastly, do those of us who don’t keep in touch with high school friends do a better job of breaking free from the prison of that experience? While I think my self-concept was molded by the adolescent years–no one escapes that–I don’t engage in the suburban middle age high school stuff. Perhaps the fact that I avoid that scene like the plague, means I’m still traumatized. All the same, I never participated much in the silly popularity game or social jockeying and I still don’t.</p>
<p>My D was pretty, smart, and athletic in high school. She was well-liked, so I suppose she was near the top of the social hierarchy. She experienced plenty of nastiness precisely because she was near the top. Other girls wanted very badly to drag her down. So I disagree with you, eastcoastcrazy.</p>
<p>GFG -The article dealt with those at the top of the social hierarchy, in describing exactly the problem your D felt when you are at the top of the social pyramid, in that peers needed to drag them down to keep themselves at the top. I think the part about the music you listen to in HS and how you never move away from that, is ridiculous. I love all types of music, including current day artists (even rappers). The article kind of rehashes HS stereotypes and of course the author chooses studies to back up what she is saying, but it was an interesting article, just the same. And unfortunately for some people, their prefrontal cortex, is never fully developed!</p>
<p>Yes, I saw that and was glad the author commented on it, marybee333. I was trying to counter eastcoastcrazy’s assertion that parents of kids who are socially successful in high school don’t see the nastiness as much. Actually, the below-the-radar type of kids are probably the most sheltered from it. </p>
<p>Also, there were no categories tied to wealth, eg. “the rich kid.” This is the student who can invite friends on all-expenses paid excursions to vacation homes and fancy places, their houses have pools and ball courts and game rooms and make for popular hang-outs. These kids also always have the lastest fashion or gadget. Frankly, some of the exclusion I felt in high school was socio-economic. I could not afford to do what most of my friends did. My dad worked in a factory, and two of my best friends, for example, had bank presidents for fathers. They could regularly go skiing, attend expensive concerts, and shop at the mall.</p>