I was once told “High school is the best time of your life.” I think he must live in a bubble because it most definitely is not. I have a hard time saying I’ve hated it since day one, but, it was pretty close, day two, day three, day five max.  Of course, we must remember that I’m a teenage girl and really it isn’t so bad. I was once an eager freshman; I’m saying it like it was many years ago, it’s been two; and sadly I’m still stuck in the middle of it all; the social hierarchy. 
Remember middle school, when for the most part everyone was friends with one another? Yeah, that all changes the first day of freshman year, when you’re herded like cattle and are shoved into the system. And by system, I don’t mean school attendance. I’m talking about the student run social hierarchy. A system where conformity leads, the ordinary people rise to the top and anyone who is different slowly sinks to the bottom.
At the top we have the popular girls, whom are believed to be perfect in every way. This is something that to this day befuddles me, how is it that such generic people rise in our society? Carbon copies of one another. Whenever I would complain about being different my dad would always say: “Wouldn’t life be boring if everyone were the same?” I didn’t appreciate it as much when I was younger but now I have come to the realization that it actually makes a lot of sense. How do these popular girls not get bored with their generic, identical personalities? Now that I’m a teenager it feels weird remembering the days when I was younger and I dreamed of being one of these popular kids. Oddly enough, now I spend my time remaining silent, I’m too nervous to talk to them. Partially because I’m record breakingly bad at small-talk but also because there’s always that fear hanging over my shoulder that as soon as you're done talking to them they’ll just talk about me and laugh. Incessant, generic, laughter.
Underneath them, we have the hot-but-obnoxious boys, they’re good to look at, annoying to talk to. Sad to say, my gym class is made up of ninety percent of ‘em. Often times my gym teacher, Mr. Jameson asks me why I don’t smile; little does he know it's because of him and the rest of the unbearable boys, making fun of everyone and everything. I mean, they spend half the class cracking jokes, humor I guess the females just weren’t meant to understand.
“Hey Mr. Jameson, why don’t you ever do anything?” A sarcastic student snapped.
“I have a college degree in physical education.” He replied.
“So do I.” Another hoodlum mocked.
Like I said, humor females just weren't meant to understand; I don’t see one part of that conversation as the least bit humorous.
After that, we have the precious athletes; and don’t get confused when I say “athlete” because when I say that, I mean the ones that belong to the good sports teams like football and lacrosse. The one’s who are the gym teacher’s favorite.
“She’s my star.”
“Don’t hurt her.”
“She’s the number one person during basketball season.”
The good sports teams do not include softball of course, the team I belong to. Where we can’t even get a decent coach let alone avoid the comments from other people. Like the one from a girl’s lacrosse player who said we were “dyke-ballers.” Personally, I think the comment lacked imagination and originality, but it’s not their fault, like I said, they’re generic. Imagination and originality aren’t in their vocabulary.
Next we have the Goodies as I like to call them, the ones who never do anything wrong in the eyes of all teachers, or adults for that matter. Somehow I can taste their underlying ambition. It’s like they have a mask on that only other students can see through. We can tell they're just as hormonal, annoying, and dramatic as the rest of us, though somehow all the adults see is their little glowing halo hanging above their head. Don’t take my word on their masks. I think they are making it so we, the students can’t see through them anymore; I really can’t tell whether or not they're actually just as good as everyone thinks they are. 
Finally, at the very bottom there are losers, video gamers, and everyone else who’s left in the shadows. The people who refuse to conform to social norms are thrown to the bottom. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why people join the groups: to be accepted, to find their own place, but most of all, for comfort. People find comfort in numbers, and there’s nothing wrong with that it's just how it is.
To give you an idea of where I am on this social ladder, my best friend and I hang out with the lunch-lady and the librarian. Yep! You’ve guest it, we reside on the bottom— when I told the librarian I was writing this she printed me a quote that says “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” I agree, it is a good quote and all except, I don’t feel inferior at all. In fact, I don’t feel inferior or superior, I just exist. You’d think that being told you’re a loser would be pretty heartbreaking but I’ve learned to love the title. You see, when I was younger, whenever I was feeling extremely different I asked my dad “Why can’t I just be normal.” to which he always replied, “What is normal? Define Normal.” I never knew how to reply to the question, usually, I’d just grunt and stomp up the stairs to my room.
Finally, I had learned the answer: “Dad. I want to be normal. The same as everybody else.”
“If everyone were the same, wouldn’t life be boring?” He hit me with his other famous question.
All through freshman and sophomore year I was troubled with the typical thoughts for a teenage girl my age: Who’s dating who? What am I going to wear tomorrow? What will they think? Following the massive amounts of drama that plagued my life for the first two years of high school, one day before junior year had started I just thought to myself who cares? Once high school is over, nobody is going to care who dated who, what I wore, or what people thought of me. It’s truly not going to matter, so you do you. That’s been my favorite phrase for a while now. You Do You.  It was at that moment, after years of hearing my father’s question that I finally understood it. I used to think the bottom of the social hierarchy was pretty bad, but it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It kept me from being normal. I accept not only myself as being different but I also think being at the bottom of this student-run system has taught me compassion, respect, and how to be happy with not only myself as a person but with every little aspect of my life. I was once told “high school is the best time of your life.” I can’t say I think he was right in a literal sense, but high school and its social hierarchy has helped me find myself, and for that, I am grateful.