Cliques

I have always abhorred cliques and the popular crowd. In high school I was quite content to do my own thing and be my own person. I was quite oblivious to any other way. Elementary school and middle school had been my soul killing grounds. In elementary school I was the social pariah from grade 3 on, with another child throwing a temper tantrum and refusing to sit in my desk in grade 4. I received some acceptance in middle school but was told in 7th grade that I didn't dress well enough to be one girl's friend and was cruelly and publicly insulted in 8th grade. By high school, I just didn't care. In fact, I considered myself, while quite mainstream, to be above the requirements for normal teenage interaction. All were welcome in my circle of friends. That's how I've always seen myself anyway.

Of late though, I have begun to question that assumption. Emmalouise is desperate to attend school. That is what big girls do and she is a big girl. To help fill her needs for school attendance, there is a resource center/play group we attend every Tuesday and Thursday morning. She paints, colors, plays house, reads, strings beads, plays on the computer and much more. There are plenty of other children. She always has a good time. Given that she is an independent 4 year old, I typically sit around a table chatting with other moms. The thing is, it's generally the same moms, a group of about 6 women (not including myself) who are all Mormon save one. We all go to church together (save one) and we all gravitate toward the same table every time we show up. I had been wondering for the last few weeks if newcomers felt intimidated by this little group. We are always friendly with everyone else but it is clear that there are established friendships in this little group and I, as a newcomer, would find it daunting to find a place in it.

This feeling of cliquishness (apparently that is a word and that is how you spell it -- yea me!) was further underscored last week by the staff of the resource center rearranging the furniture. The room used to have a small snack/craft table on the linoleum section of the room and a larger table, made of four tables pushed together, on the carpeted area. We would generally group around this table, sometimes to the point where there were no free chairs -- again, daunting. On last Tuesday I arrived to find that a small, child sized table had been placed in the middle of the carpeted area for coloring. I felt that this was a good move as it was hard to enforce eating snacks at the one small table when it was covered in craft projects and swamped with kids busily creating. The large "adult" table was completely broken up with only two small tables with adult size chairs remaining. Each new table is smaller than a typical four seating dining room table; there isn't enough room for four adults to sit and each place a book on its surface. However, my group forges on and we all simply crowd around one little table and try and make room for every one.

What's my point? I'm not sure other than I'm really wanting to post and this is something that has been percolating for weeks. I enjoy my friends. I enjoy hearing about their lives and this is really the only time I'm able to connect with them. Sundays are so rushed that we have time only for a few words. Part of me feels like I'm fine. This isn't a clique. Anyone could join and what's wrong with me hanging out with my friends? But what bothers me and pesters me in the back of my mind and heart is the fact that no one really does join. There are side conversations here and there but they always feel stilted and awkward. Again, this is just my perception. I also struggle with knowing what to say to someone else to draw them in. When I have been someone on the outside, I have ached and cried and wanted someone on the inside to draw me in. Now, being on the inside -- or rather, what I perceive as the inside -- I'm not sure how to do that without seeming like the "good Christian busybody."