March 1, 2012

  • Lauren and Victoria

    Lauren was in my preschool class. She was very sociable, and she had many friends. We girls all wanted to be like her.

    Lauren did not like me, so no one liked me.

    I remember the scene, but not my thoughts. Only one scene. The class was sitting in a circle, and Lauren was in the middle. Other girls were hugging her. I wanted to hug her too, so I did, quickly while her back was turned, but she saw me. I sat back right away and acted like I hadn't done anything, but she looked annoyed and said, "not you!"

    So that was it. There wasn't a chance in the world of her ever liking me. I wasn't even worthy to admire her.

    ---

    Victoria was the same age as me, and I was now a year or two older. Sometimes it seemed to me like she and I were friends. She was unreserved and confident. At reading time, she'd urge me to go through the Where's Waldo books with her. I never understood why she liked them. They were boring.

    Sometimes though, we'd fight. I've forgotten why. Maybe I started them. It was too long ago for me to remember.

    We all liked to make potholders back then. We'd take loops of fabric and weave them onto a frame to make little squares of cloth. I had a partially finished one in my cubbyhole. After a fight with Victoria, it was gone. I found it in her cubbyhole, next to mine, so I took it back. I never stole. Is it stealing if I take back my own things?

    Later on, Victoria angrily accused me of taking things from her cubbyhole. I thought it was very unfair that she could take my things from mine, but get angry when I took my own things from hers.

    The next day, we were friends again. She asked if she could have the potholder when I was done making it. I ended up giving it to her.

    ---

    I recently read Frans de Waal's book Chimpanzee Politics, and there was one particularly striking phrase that appeared: "dominant children". I bristled right away at the idea of watching preschoolers on a playground and labeling some as alphas, and then I realized the root of my discomfort: I had not been an alpha. I had been the lowest-ranking creature.

    But after 200 pages of social purpose and tactics among chimpanzees, it was suddenly painfully easy to study my own behaviors, and to wonder about them. Lower ranking apes will submissively greet and relinquish food to higher-ranking ones. They will not mate if a higher-ranking peer does not tolerate it, and they sit quietly in the background while more dominant apes roam.

    These are all too reminiscent of my own behaviors. Why do I feel like I've done wrong whenever I walk in front of someone? How come whenever I share something with someone, the other person has to have the bigger part? Why do I keep telling people I'm not hungry for another slice when I really am? I don't even feel right taking Terraria equipment unless everyone else in the world already has something at least as good. I don't feel right if I ever have more than someone else.

    A few days ago, as I went entering a gate, I saw a boy walk up to exit. I automatically stepped back and held the gate for him. He strolled leisurely by, never bothering to look at me.

    For many years, I thought I wanted to be nice. I thought I wanted people to be happy. I honestly believed it. I don't know if I believe it anymore. Rather than a personality trait or a planned behavior, perhaps it's a conditioned response. Maybe I'm not actually nice; maybe I'm just low-ranking.