The Breakfast Club is an 80s classic, and, despite being released the year I was born, one of my favorite adolescent movies. I identified with all the characters, likely because, well, the audience is supposed to. Since I’ve finished my SDCP Q&As, I thought delving into a new theme was in order. Behold, the five part series of The Breakfast Club: brain, athlete, basket case, princess, and criminal. 


Growing up, I was, what was often referred to as, “bright” – a term I never much liked. I remember in elementary and, particularly, middle school getting to be excused from one class a week to attend the GT program, which stood for Gifted and Talented (I still partake in a self-implemented summer GT program, but I don’t think gin & tonics are what my teachers had in mine for my continuing education). 

I hated going to GT. Even if it meant getting to skip gym class, no kid likes getting singled out and having attention drawn to them, particularly a super self-conscious kid like I was. I don’t know where exactly my classmates thought I was shuffled off to weekly, but the advanced aspect of it was downplayed by school staff and simply referred to colloquially as the “special class.” Who’d have thought a bunch of middle schoolers would chose to take the cruel interpretation of such phrasing? Consequently, participants would be teased for having to go to the “retard room.” Ever the charming peers that I had. 

The classes themselves were neither particularly challenging nor rewarding. There was a lot of introduction to other subjects not otherwise included in curriculum, like philosophy, but it was more like an acknowledgment of their existence with very rudimentary study rather than a true exploration of the topic. All in all, not worth the torment that awaited me when I returned to geography class. 

As the story goes, having some semblance of bring brainy ultimately became more and more desirable as I got older, though, to be honest, I don’t consider myself the exceptionally intelligent bluestocking that was once prophesied I would become. At some point in my scholastic career, I decided it was more important to me to be content rather than to live up to whatever potential I may have had. Then again, this choice did come after reading much philosophy that was hinted at in my earlier GT days, an irony that does not go unappreciated and sips as sweetly as my more current gin and tonics.