he eternal question for every high schooler is and always will be, am I cool? While we can’t put into words exactly what the definition of cool is, we know it when we see it.

It’s kind of like porn in that way.

My point is, kids everywhere agonize over whether the clothes they buy, the music they listen to, and the activities they take part in are cool or not. Acid wash jeans or board shorts? Avril Lavigne or Nickelback? Ultimate frisbee team or needle point club?

(Note: All of these things are lame.)

We’re constantly worrying about how people will perceive us, in our appearance and actions, but from these never ending cycles of anxiety emerges a question: what do they know?

What do they know, these people who are judging us? What do they know about what’s cool, what’s hip, what’s groovy?

(Note: None of these terms are cool.)

What’s cool is constantly changing, to go along with our constantly changing generation. Anyone remember Webkinz, Silly Bandz, Livestrong bracelets? And above all, crocs? When we look at these things now, we realize how unbelievably dorky they were, but with the approval of a large group of people, they were “totally awesome!” These things were only cool because other people told us so. The entire system of coolness is based on approval from a society of people we consider more “totally awesome” than we are. I mean there’s no way I would have thought Tamagotchi’s were cool unless my friend’s worldly older sister had told me so. (And right she was, those things were b****in’.)

My point is, we shouldn’t let anyone dictate what we like, because our coolness compasses, like our moral compasses, come from within. Do what you love, and don’t let anyone tell you it’s lame.

(Unless what you love is listening to Nickelback, because Nickelback is super lame. 40 year old men in leather bracelets are just not cool.)

Signing off,

-S