When I was in high school, the fall brought many things that helped define one’s popularity. First was the selection of the homecoming court - when that was over came the student government elections. But the true test of how cool you were depended on one holiday - Sweetest Day.
As far back as a month before the day, student organizations would sit in the cafeteria holding a carnation sale. People would line up, occasionally trying to peek if they were getting any and would send the flower to friends, boyfriends or girlfriends, and I’m sorry to say, but some sent them to teachers.
And then the day arrived.
It would be the last period of the day and the flower carriers would come into classrooms with tons of single carnations with notes and then would be passed out. Little did they know they were about to make or break student’s reputations.
When I got my one flower - from my best friend of course - I felt cool. That was at least until the girl sitting next to me was given 10. My carnation wilted, sensing its lack of importance next to the nearby plethora of flowers.
That’s when I decided I hated Sweetest Day. I’m not bitter because I felt like a dork in high school, rather because I realized how meaningless it is.
Do we really need a special day to show people we think they are sweet?
In college, although there are no flower sales outside of Wells Hall, I can still hear the petty girls in my classes talking to each other about who their dates are for the night, what they are going to buy their boyfriends, etc. My favorite part is when they try to pressure me into admitting I don’t have a date.
At first, I made up reasons. “I am going to the football game in Ann Arbor, and won’t be back at MSU.” Pathetic.
Or even worse: “My (imaginary) boyfriend is out of town.”
Who am I? Have I degenerated into the one-carnation-given insecure high school student?
After my own self pity, I took a stand.
I don’t have a date for Sweetest Day. I won’t be getting any flowers for Sweetest Day. I am not even going to acknowledge Sweetest Day.
I will not have it on a boat, and I won’t celebrate it wearing a coat.
I do not like Sweetest Day.
Now that my bitterness is set aside, I began wondering about the day. My friends in other states haven’t even heard of it. It’s obvious that this Hallmark holiday was created with the goal of making money.
I know this holiday doesn’t hurt anyone - except for the poor carnationless kid in high school - and that it is meant to be a “Fall Valentine’s Day.” At least Feb. 14 holds some historical significance.
For those who are still mesmerized by the day and continue to partake in it, I ask one thing. Try to have Sweetest Day once a week. Once a day, make someone else feel good and simply let them know you think that he or she is sweet.
Imagine how much better relationships of all kinds would be if there was no dependence on silly days to make up for months of not appreciating those we love. I know I try to do this, either by mailing my friends cards various times during the year, or making the effort to call people I may not get to talk to often.
Romantic relationships benefit as well. Instead of spending money on a dozen roses, or taking your girlfriend out to dinner to celebrate the day, let her know you appreciate her often. Why give money to Hallmark, when words are worth so much more?
Problems throughout the world may not be solved by human kindness, but how can it hurt? The effects of making someone else feel special - or sweet - will brighten their day and eventually everyone else around them.
It sounds clichéd, but we can really make a difference. A difference in our lives and someone else’s.
I would like to think the purpose of creating such a day was to let other people know they are sweet. But I know it wasn’t. So let’s rise above the plotting card companies, and make it something worthwhile.
And, if you have a sibling or friend in high school, give them a carnation. It can’t hurt.
Rachel Wright, State News business and environment reporter, can be reached at wrightr9@msu.edu.
