Middle is the right word

Middle school. That's exactly what it is. These kids are in the middle of moving from their parents' loving guidance and protection to making decisions about who they are and who they want to be. This was especially apparent to me today in a very glaring dichotomy. My day started with one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life. It was 2nd period, the first teaching period for me. Something caught my eye and as I followed the flash I realized that one of my most dramatic students was wearing a bright pink bracelet. But as I looked closer, I realized that, yes indeed it was a florescent pink slinky. She had hooked the end over her thumb and there she was with a shocking pink bracelet that went from her wrist to her elbow. I could hardly stand it. The day rolled along but the pink slinky bracelet reminded me of how much I love these kids. After lunch we were missing one of our students and no one seemed to know where she was. She had clearly been at lunch hanging out with her regular group of friends. As time went by, she eventually showed up with a note from the AP; not necessarily a good sign. After school the little group came in, eager to chat. It tuned out that this girl was involved in fingering a kid who had been rumored to be selling drugs. Somehow she managed to trap him in his answers and she took the information right to the office. These two events really brought the term middle school home to me. These kids are definitely in the middle. They are so desperate to fit in but yet stand out from the crowd they will look around their room and light on something as ordinary as a slinky to make it happen. The other extreme are the kids looking for the boundary between being bad and bringing out the police.

Now this all caused me to think back to my own 6th grade experience. At the time there was no middle school in my neighborhood. My school went k-12 but I do remember 6th grade being a transition year preparing us for Jr/High school. My teacher was Mrs. Miller. I have no doubt that she has passed on as she was on the older side when I had her. She was one of those loving, nurturing teachers that you rarely find in the upper grades. She had one of those dye jobs that turned her hair blue but we loved her dearly. That was back in the day when girls didn't wear pants unless it was freezing and it was improper for them to whistle. I clearly remember her reciting the proverb: A whistling girl and a crowing hen Both will come to a bad end. I had never heard it before but it obviously stuck with me. Although that was the year my brother died the only other thing I remember about 6th grade is the constant question of when my period would start. So the thought of wearing a slinky to school or confronting some kid who may be selling drugs were the furthest thing from my mind. I didn't even know about drugs and our slinkies were all made of metal. Both of these actions take such an incredible amount of courage. It is a reminder to me of what my students are bringing into the classroom along with their binders and brains.