It's no secret I love music and movies from the 80s, and
John Hughes is the director who captured
all the humor and awkwardness of that time in a way that just grabbed me. I still identify with the new wave
soundtrack and vision of suburban angst that are found in each of his films.
They almost feel like they’re part of my personal history; like a well-edited
family video - fun but uncomfortable to watch. Do you feel that way too?
Although I like all of his movies, my three favorites
have always been The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Sixteen
Candles. Of these, the Breakfast Club resonates with me the most because it
defined what it’s like to be excluded from the popular crowd – being an
outsider. It was also a huge inspiration for me in writing the Ghost in My
Pocket.
Can you imagine a real life scenario where you put a spoiled
prom queen, a nerd, a jock, a thug and a weirdo together in a Saturday
detention? Well yes, you can now because everything is about reality TV, but
this was back when MTV and VH1 were still music video channels. The kids were
more than mere caricatures and all seemed believable to me because they each
felt like a facet of my own still-evolving personality. Each character,
regardless of how "popular" they were at Shermer High - and whether
they realized it or not - was an outsider.
Judging by his innocent and nerdy appearance, no one
could imagine that Brian’s mother pushed him so hard to get straight A’s that he
brings a gun to school (we now know all the horrific implications from real
life.) While Andrew’s father is so hell-bent on winning and “going-off” on
people, that everybody’s favorite athlete - and usually a nice guy - Andrew,
has a locker-room meltdown. He ruthlessly bullies one of Brian’s friends,
taping his hairy butt-cheeks together, all “for my old man.” Yet they share a
perception about parents that is common to many teenagers: Parents give you
stress and they don’t understand.
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| The Breakfast Club Universal Pictures |
Similarly, the pre-grunge, foul-mouthed trouble-maker
(think “gang-banger” today) and the spoiled, sushi-eating (unheard of in the
80s) rich girl have seemingly nothing in common. Bender is strangely loyal to
his friends (gang,) while looking down on superficial chicks like Claire and
dweebs like Brian. In turn, Bender doesn’t even register on Claire’s social
radar, and when he does, it is only as a loser (albeit one she is attracted
to.) She also looks down on nerds like Brian, only acting nice if she finds
them useful for exploitation (writing papers and such.) Yet we see a strange
juxtaposition of parental abuse in Bender’s cigarette burn and Claire’s parents
filling her life with material objects (diamond earrings and a fully
tricked-out sushi lunch set) to make-up for the emptiness that results from
their neglect.
And on the fringe of the detention group, the artistic
weird girl, Allison, seems to be the outsider’s outsider (i.e. zero friends.)
She just doesn’t give a flying frappacino about what anyone thinks. She at least
has a pre-goth, pre-vamp-tramp cuteness going for her to offset the lack of
personal hygiene, dandruff and off-putting body odor. Not to mention, Claire
can quickly transform her into a living American Girl doll, which is exactly in
all-American boy, Andrew’s wheelhouse.
I can relate to these misfits, because high school was
definitely an awkward time for me too. The notion that the kids who seemed to
have it all – the prettiest girl, the smartest guy and the most popular athlete
- were insecure like the rest of us, was unthinkable to me at the time.
Decades later, I have found that life continues to turn
the tables around and around with no guarantees of happiness for anyone.
Regardless of our social standing back in high school, my classmates and I have
achieved varying levels of success. For the most part, everyone eventually
experiences a time of humbling hardship or painful loss. In spite of life’s often
harsh and inevitable turns, each person also grows - gaining some degree of
clarity, strength, self-understanding and empathy. Consequently, more of my
classmates have become my friends.
Now, I see through the eyes of a parent as my three
daughters grow and form friendships in kindergarten, middle school and high
school. I can only hope that they too can see the things they share in common
with their classmates, rather than the outward differences that divide them.
Perhaps my girls and all the rest of us - whether we see
ourselves as Claire the rich girl, Brian the nerd, Andy the jock, Bender the thug,
Allison the weirdo or any combination of the above – we can agree that we’re all just outsiders.
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