Mean Girls is a surprisingly entertaining film and especially educational for younger viewers. Lindsay Lohan plays a even-keel yet naive new student that strikes back at a very shallow clique of girls called “the plastics”. The movie is a comedy, but the plastic clique is a fair representation of the sort of shallow people found in any secondary school’s social heirarchy. These kids feed on the faults and insecurities of others. They take pride in hollow “social” accomplishments. They champion fickle fashion as an art or a virtue. They have no taste of their own. They have no true friends. Everyone is a tool in their eyes. Every alliance serves some selfish purpose. When they feel pity serves them best they work to create dramatic sob stories from their pampered, meaningless lives. They tear others down in order to artificially inflate their own self worth.
When we learn to laugh at ourselves, we are free to be human. The proud are easily mocked and scorned. When we embrace our foolishness, it is more difficult to shame us with it. I pity these shallow people for they have forged their own chains. Everyone is keen to the threat posed by others with vices similar to their own. Let me clarify with some examples. I was a nosy child, so I carried a deep-seated fear people would go through my stuff. I know liars that have issues trusting others. Likewise, shallow people assume everyone is as critical and unforgiving as they are. They are never free to be human and embrace real life. I imagine this fuels their bitter downward spiral.
The schools I attended did not emphasize building student’s character. Most of the rules I remember being enforced were designed to control and protect students and faculty or facilitate learning. The psychological tactics plastic people use often fall between the rules that are enforced. Even the most damaging offenses sound petty when brought before an authority. When I was young I was discouraged by what I perceived as their prosperity. I was so mislead I even adopted some of their values. Now I see the real fruits of that lifestyle. They never learn to love. Rather they endure relationships with people as selfish and loathsome as they are. They never serve a cause greater than themselves. They grow neurotic from trying to maintain a facade of perfection: never misstep; never exhale; never relax.
I am grateful that my children are humble and free. They know plastic people and have experienced their venom. Although I know the natural consequences of a shallow life, I still find it hard to forgive them and wish them well in my prayers. When my children turn to me for advice I don’t have easy responses. The godly response I must recommend isn’t one I understand. At that point it’s clear I’m asking them to be better people than I am.