I think if you're elite, it merely means you have class...and not a part of the dross.
Oh, no, DR Charles! There is a definite difference between having class and being part of the elite.
Being part of the elite, particularly in high school, meant being part of a special group of people, open only to the very few, and requiring of the rest of the school a certain drop-jawed envy. Class, on the other hand...
A story from my own high school experiences. In my class, there was a core quartet who were involved in most everything. Ken, the leader, was the son of a preacher, but had turned out pretty good. Mark was the son of the HS music teacher. Jim was the "chubby" (and most funny) one, and Bob filled in the gaps, sort of the Zeppo.
No, they weren't on the football team, or any of those teams. They were the cheerleaders, and the core of the theater group (including being the only males in the dance class), and involved with the Associated Student Body. And, of course, when it came to elect the ASB president for the fall semester, Ken took the lead and was the chosen one.
Ken was an inclusionist. He wanted everyone to benefit from what was happening. Me, I'd been involved in the Poster committee the entire time, often being the one who was making the posters while the "in crowd" used the poster supply room as the stashing place for their books ("Oh, you can't expect US to use our lockers, it's too far out of our way!" was the response). So Ken turned to me and made me the Publicity committee chairman. He knew I wasn't one of the "popular" crowd, but he also knew I was on the school paper, and had been contributing for years. He wanted my experience.
But that was how Ken operated. He was interested in everyone, and interested in boosting everyone. I wasn't the only one who benifited from Ken's modus. There were many others.
Spring semester elections came around, and it was Bob's turn to be elected ASB President. (Jim and Mark weren't into the ASB thing.) Bob was Ken's opposite. He was an exclusionist, interested in being part of the "elite" crowd. Sure enough, all the committee posts were filled with his "friends" (outside of the other three), the ones who pandered to being part of the "upper echelon." The rest of us were summarily turned out, rejected, no matter how much experience we had.
And yes, it stung.
The difference was, Bob had worked his way into being part of the "elite," and saw that as his power base. Ken, on the other hand, never pandered to that power base. Ken was the one who had...I'm getting ahead of myself.
Twenty year reunion. I was there, and brought der Brucer. (There's other stories to tell, I won't just now.) Ken and Jim were missing, but Mark and Bob were there. Mark looked much as he always had, with the addition of a moustache. Bob, who had always been the classically handsome one, was bald and jowelly. He looked old. (His wife, wearing a pill-box hat, didn't make him look any younger.) Naturally, his distaste of myself and my partner was obvious. And a lot of people avoided him all night.
Ten years later, the thirty year reunion. Again, I'm there with der Brucer (who agreed to be photographed with me this time for the official pic). There's no sign of Ken again. Bob isn't there this time, however. Jim has reportedly died. Mark is the only one of the four present. Like father, like son, he's now teaching music and leading the local church choir. I commented on his being the only one of the four to still be coming to the reunions, and he nodded. "I miss Ken," was his only reply.
Dammit, I miss Ken, too. He was the one with class. He defined class. Whatever has happened to him, I wish him well.
