I passed a young boy his morning on his way to school. He never looked up. His head bowed, full of curly brown hair, and his eyes razor focused on the sidewalk. Although seemingly quiet, and nondescript, his head clearly full of thoughts and his body chock full of raging hormones.
He was a middle schooler.
I taught middle school English a few summers and decided right then, and there that middle school teachers were a special breed. They were in a special club that I admired, and revered, but under no circumstances wanted to join.
And I will never forget those early years of teaching as I went to graduate school at night. I was pursuing my Masters in Brit. Lit., and the wide disparity between the two groups of students was not lost on me. My own students (my class) crawled over each other to respond. They overlapped, and even spoke over each other, and often could not even wait their turn. Their eagerness knew no bounds. And the graduate class? It was crickets. Only a few (who knew the entire novels cover to cover) responded consistently. Most of us were too fearful to say the wrong thing, or worse to have the wrong opinion with our professor.
I always theorized that something happens in middle school. I don't know what exactly it is. It's like purgatory. They have to swim upstream through the hormones, growth spurts, bad skin and bad hair.
And so when I passed this young boy this morning I wanted to just reach out and tousle his hair, or tell him everything was going to be alright. He would get through this. Everyone goes through it.
But he didn't see me.
I really liked this piece and looked everywhere for the Like button but to no avail. I too taught middle school and these preteens and teens will always have a place in my heart. You captured adolescence from the image at the beginning of your post to that simple final sentence of five words. Thanks for the good read.
ReplyDeleteEverything you say is so true. I could never have taught middle school or even high school. Even college undergraduates were sometimes a bit high school-y, but the graduate students I taught in a journalism department were grownups and the most fun to teach.
ReplyDeleteThe middle school is my sweet spot. I can see the young person just as you describe. Now that I live and substitute teach in a small town, nothygivesme more joy than an exchange with a middle schooler beyond school boundaries. This is when life is it's most intense.
ReplyDeleteThanks for a vivid word picture.