You Can Sit With Me

School's starting here in NJ and it reminded me of the first day of my freshman year of high school in Sugar Land, TX.  I had carpooled with the same four kids through middle school and we all piled into Christie Caldwell's mom's grey minivan, nervous and excited to be starting out as 9th graders.  As we pulled up to Dulles High School there were seniors milling by the front door as Christie's mom began to slow down for us to get out.  Every one of us in the car simultaneously felt the same sense of panic and shouted "No! Keep driving!!" to Christie's bewildered mother.  We unanimously insisted on being dropped off at a door farther from the front, so we wouldn't have to cross paths with all those seniors wearing their senior t-shirts, intimidating all the freshmen walking in the door.

Feeling like you don't belong, or worse, like you're not wanted, stinks.  Sometimes people set out to intimidate you like those high school seniors seemed to do and other people have no idea it's happening.  

I remember a year later being a new kid at a different school as we had moved to St. Louis.  I happened to have gone to summer camp with a number of girls in my grade so I wasn't walking in totally blind but, with the move and a new school, I was still nervous.  Everyone was super nice - yay!  Then it came time for lunch.  That feeling when you're holding your lunch tray, surveying the tables, praying to meet someone's eyes who beckon over to you to come and sit with you?  Yeah, no one beckoned.  I did see a table of the camp girls and went and asked if I could sit with them.  They happily obliged and my discomfort eased.

A few weeks later another new girl, also from camp, started at our school and I righteously lectured to our lunch table we had to invite her to sit with us.  "Well of course she can sit with us" they said, "she knows that!".  These girls had all been at the same school since 1st grade and really had never been NEW.  "She absolutely does NOT know that," I replied, "and we have to tell her before lunch even happens."  They threw up their hands and said "Okay!" and we made sure (meaning I made sure) to tell her we had a seat for her at our table if she'd like to join us.  I have no idea if our new compatriot needed the invitation or not but it has always been in me to try to include folks as best I can.

It happens as adults too.  I love connecting with people but am horrible at small talk.  HORRIBLE.  I'm happy to discuss our childhoods, relationships, period pain, burnout and more but if we need to discuss the weather for more than 30 seconds I begin to stall out.  Or worse, no one is there to discuss the weather with.

Last fall I went to a event full of women, many I knew socially but I didn't KNOW them. They all said hello and then promptly turned back to the person they had been speaking with and it was apparent I was not invited into the conversation.  Ouch.  It happened again and again that night, so much so half of me wanted to melt into the floor and the other half was having lunchroom flashbacks.  Then I saw a woman I had met a couple of times who seemed to be wandering like I was and I said hello and began a conversation with her.  Another woman passed by, looking a little lost, and I said "we're talking about the best summer trip you ever took, do you have a favorite?" and folded that person in.  And we proceeded to fold another person in and another.  After the event ended our small group found one another again, talked late into the night and were the last ones to leave - it was wonderful!

I know it's not always possible to include everyone, and sometimes you really just need a visit with your BFF who you haven't seen in weeks, but there are occasions where we can look outside of ourselves, outside of our circle of comfort, and invite someone else into it.  That's my aim this fall season - to consciously be looking for opportunities to include other folks in social situations.  And you can always sit with me 😊.