Popularity

From time to time over the years, people who did not know me in my younger days would ask Were you popular when you were in school?

And the answer I would always give was I was popular enough.

Because the word popular means different things to different people. And based on one’s personal definition, there is judgement of the person in which the adjective applies.

I am not sure if it is due to hubris or humility but I have always enjoyed volunteering. I always thought I had the skills to help people—to contribute—to make things better. And I have found myself either by design or circumstance to be in a position to nominate others in a variety of organizations.

And particularly when I was involved in the PTA nominating committee, I found myself smack in the crosshairs of popularity. The issue on multiple occasions was this: more often than not, more than one person had the prerequisites for a board position. But one of the candidates had better social skills—one was more adept at unifying the crowd simply because they were more likable—they were not abrasive—they did not offend. And because the PTA position involved interfacing with the public as well as central administration, the more popular candidate was almost always nominated. They simply made the better choice.

But the fallout was that some of the organization’s members rolled their eyes and said Her again? Why not someone else? Why is it always the same person?

The better candidate met with criticism based on their popularity—they were hated for being well-liked. They were also hated for their willingness to take on the responsibility of the work—again.

And I have found that when amalgamated with integrity, popularity is the perfect blend for success. Popularity need not be synonymous with meanness or exclusivity or physical attractiveness or being “cool”. It simply refers to the fact that you are amiable. It means lots of people enjoy your company. It means lots of people find that what you have to say is agreeable or smart or funny.

Popularity is an admirable trait in its strictest sense. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with preferring a golden retriever to a pit bull.

And when I say I was popular enough, I mean that not only was I comfortable with the percentage of people who did find me likable, it also means that I was comfortable with the percentage of people  who did not—and that is an important distinction. The street ran both ways.

Popularity is based afterall on population—and the size of the population can be as large or as small as one’s discretion allows. It's always contextual.

And in the very parochial sense of the word, I suppose I truly was popular enough in high school: I was nominated  a “Snowball Princess” at the winter dance--although I was not popular enough to be voted “Snowball Queen.” I did not wear the rhinestone tiara—Susan Gleeson did---it better suited her--and she wore it well.