Many of the comments in this thread make it interesting and somewhat sad to note how long the resentment lingers against those who slighted us decades ago in high school.
I agree. The bullies and snobs just don't have a clue what kind of scars they leave on others. Fortunately, the bullies mostly left me alone, and the snobs just didn't really make a shit of difference to me. Funny thing, most of the snobs (in high school, I called them "big-timers," because they honestly thought they were in the big time at school...) changed their attitude toward me, when they realized that I really didn't care if they were on the football team or the cheerleading squad, or if their parents belonged to the country club. I didn't care if they pointed at me and snickered when I talked to the "unpopular" kids. I figured it was more their loss than mine. I didn't care what clique someone belonged to. I spoke to everyone, and those who didn't mind "crossing the lines" would speak back. Eventually, I was friends with people from almost every clique.
My class had a 5 year reunion (I didn't go; too soon), a 10 year (I went), a 15 year (too soon again) and a 25 year (I went.)
The 10 year reunion, it seemed that most everyone was still trying to cling to their high school personae. A few had changed for the better. One black girl, in high school, was just angry with the world. She would fight anyone - black, white, male, female - for any reason whatsoever. Almost everyone was terrified of her. At the reunion, she was calm, sweet, and pleasant, and put the moves on me all weekend. Otherwise, it was pretty much like high school all over again, but with slightly less energy.
At the 25 year reunion, everyone was much more adult-acting (yea!) I got brave, and took my partner with me. He was very warmly welcomed by all but one, who made a shitty little comment from the sidelines while my partner was dancing with my friend, Debbie. She told me this guy had yelled at them as they went by, "which one of you is the girl?" I didn't recognize him, which was odd, because I knew every other classmate. It turns out that he was only in our class for a semester and a half, and didn't even graduate with us.
Otherwise, the prettiest and most popular girls had become plump old matronly brood mares, the handsome popular guys had beer guts and very little hair left. Some of the wallflower girls had become popular by being on the planning committee. Most of the ones who wouldn't speak to me in school now wanted to be buddies. And lots of the ones who were really my friends in school always have been, and still are. There are about 20 with whom I've socialized since junior high, and we still all get together when I'm in town.
