How to use this Page

Tricia Rayburn's book, THE MELTING OF MAGGIE BEAN, features an ice cream cone on the cover, which always makes me hungry. I say this by way of praise--who doesn't like ice cream? Although the cover of my copy is going to get warped what with all of my drooling. 
Tricia actually had a very pragmatic approach toward popularity back in her school days. Check it out:

Much like Maggie in The Melting of Maggie Bean, I was a very studious, organized middle-schooler...even when it came to the pursuit of popularity. In fact, Maggie's Master Multi-Tasker, an extensive, multi-tabbed spreadsheet of grades, goals and accomplishments that Maggie updates every night, was inspired by a list that my best friend Aimee and I started the summer before 6th grade. While our list wasn't quite as involved as the Multi-Tasker is at any given point, it was still focused and effective. It included one very important goal, and three very important steps toward achieving it.

The Goal: To Be More Popular
I wish I could say we were more eloquent than this, or that our aspirations were a bit more meaningful (like to read a hundred books that year, or to help every single substitute teacher feel as welcome and comfortable as possible), but...no. We were leaving 5th grade, when we ruled a school of 4th and 5th graders, and dropping back to the bottom of the totem pole in a totally new school of 6th, 7th and 8th graders. We were concerned with only one thing: not being completely invisible.

Step #1: Chew Minty Gum
Yes, this really was our very first brilliant idea. As tasty as Bubblicious and Bubble Yum were in 5th grade, and as much as everyone in our class loved their shockingly super-sweet flavors, Savage Sour Apple and Gonzo Grape simply wouldn't DO in 6th grade. They weren't nearly as sophisticated as Trident Spearmint, or Carefree Wintergreen. And 6th grade was about sophistication. It was about being taken seriously. And we were prepared to do anything--even sacrifice our true chewing-gum preferences--to let people know we meant business.

Step #2: Say Hello to At Least Five People a Day
This might not sound like a big deal, but it was understood that "five people a day" meant five NEW people. Which meant that Aimee didn't count as one of my five, and I didn't count as one of hers. Our parents didn't count. Neither did our brothers and sisters. Teachers were definitely out. So that meant that in between classes, when other people were busy going to their lockers and talking to the friends they already had, we were supposed to naturally interrupt with a friendly greeting. This proved to be far more challenging than enjoying the fresh-breath effects of minty gum, and simply hoping others would, too.

Step #3: Dress Accordingly
Now, dressing accordingly when I was in 6th grade meant something very different from dressing accordingly in 6th grade today. It meant slouch socks. And scrunchies. And jeans so tightly cuffed they left light lines around your ankles. It also meant LA Gear sneakers--high-tops, preferably with neon colors. Mine were white with hot-pink trim and laces; Aimee's were white with bright-turquoise trim and laces. And if I remember correctly, we did our best to make sure our slouch socks matched our scrunchies, and that our slouch socks and scrunchies matched the neon colors of our LA Gear sneakers. It was, as you can imagine, quite a process.

That was it. One very important goal, and three very important steps. I wish I could say that we achieved our goal by taking these steps, but the truth is, we didn't take them for very long. A few months later we were in 7th grade and no longer at the very bottom of the totem pole, and a few months after that we were in 8th grade, when, by birth date alone, we already had something on 2/3 of the kids in school. And then by 9th grade, when we were the youngest again and it might've been helpful to start a new list, consciously working to be more popular probably would've only resulted in some sort of social crash-and-burn. Because aren't the most popular kids usually the ones who don't seem to try so hard?

Plus, have you tried Gonzo Grape lately? SO not worth the sacrifice!

Tricia Rayburn is the author of The Melting of Maggie Bean and Maggie Bean Stays Afloat, and the forthcoming (tentatively titled!) Maggie Bean in Love and Ruby's Slippers. She lives near the beach on eastern Long Island with her fiance and crazy shih tzu. Visit Tricia at: www.triciarayburn.com.