I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT THIS WILL GO DOWN ON YOUR PERMANENT RECORD
In an effort to better connect with my middle school students, I listened to the Violent Femmes on my way to work this morning. I chose the Femmes because they were that one band that expressed thoughts that I didn't know I had. All the older kids on the schoolbus treated the Femmes like some kind of gospel book of grunge. And while I could have also listened to the Cranberries or Belly or REM (yeah, I was a moper), the Femmes kind of stand out because they were the one band that my mom couldn't understand. And believe me, my mom is really understanding--it becomes a little frustrating if you're in seventh grade because you always want your feelings to remain different and scary and new. Mom always said that the Violent Femmes just sounded like some guys in a garage, the sound quality was low, and so on, and I, in my best exasperated 13-year-old-girl voice, said "THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT!" And really, thank goodness for the fact that mom still doesn't like the Femmes. It preserves the effect, you see.
It was a good experiment, but I can't pretend that it worked very well. So many things about middle school are exactly as I remember them (and believe me, it's harrowing to experience all the petty bullshit from the teacher's point of view). But it's also true that a lot of the world around these kids is different. It's cool to like 50 and Ciara and I don't even know what else. Today, two fifth grade girls showed me pictures of some youngish airbrushed tastefully thugged-out preteen, and when I asked them who it was they were all UM HI IT'S LIL ROMEO. Well, sure.
All that aside, it frustrates me that I can't be totally honest with them about some of these things--how similar middle school was for me, and how much of the social hierarchy I pick up just from watching them at lunch. I can't really say these things because I'm supposed to be an authority figure, and that's a little different from just being any other adult in their lives. More importantly, it would almost be cruel. They probably wouldn't believe me anyway.
For example, today the 4-8 grades had a surprise dance party in the gym. The cool kids know how to dance like music videos, or they just take turns jumping under the basketball hoop and grabbing the net. But the kids who weren't born with that innate sense of socializing were left completely afloat. They sat behind the refreshments table with me instead of mingling. I saw a 6th grader I'm particularly fond of, an excellent writer and a really funny kid, sitting by himself on one side of the gym. I went over to say "hi" and, in doing so, singled him out somehow. I could see the panic in his eyes, seriously. His voice was shaking when he told me that he didn't like dances and he thought it was stupid that everybody had to go. What would I even say to him?
In an effort to better connect with my middle school students, I listened to the Violent Femmes on my way to work this morning. I chose the Femmes because they were that one band that expressed thoughts that I didn't know I had. All the older kids on the schoolbus treated the Femmes like some kind of gospel book of grunge. And while I could have also listened to the Cranberries or Belly or REM (yeah, I was a moper), the Femmes kind of stand out because they were the one band that my mom couldn't understand. And believe me, my mom is really understanding--it becomes a little frustrating if you're in seventh grade because you always want your feelings to remain different and scary and new. Mom always said that the Violent Femmes just sounded like some guys in a garage, the sound quality was low, and so on, and I, in my best exasperated 13-year-old-girl voice, said "THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT!" And really, thank goodness for the fact that mom still doesn't like the Femmes. It preserves the effect, you see.
It was a good experiment, but I can't pretend that it worked very well. So many things about middle school are exactly as I remember them (and believe me, it's harrowing to experience all the petty bullshit from the teacher's point of view). But it's also true that a lot of the world around these kids is different. It's cool to like 50 and Ciara and I don't even know what else. Today, two fifth grade girls showed me pictures of some youngish airbrushed tastefully thugged-out preteen, and when I asked them who it was they were all UM HI IT'S LIL ROMEO. Well, sure.
All that aside, it frustrates me that I can't be totally honest with them about some of these things--how similar middle school was for me, and how much of the social hierarchy I pick up just from watching them at lunch. I can't really say these things because I'm supposed to be an authority figure, and that's a little different from just being any other adult in their lives. More importantly, it would almost be cruel. They probably wouldn't believe me anyway.
For example, today the 4-8 grades had a surprise dance party in the gym. The cool kids know how to dance like music videos, or they just take turns jumping under the basketball hoop and grabbing the net. But the kids who weren't born with that innate sense of socializing were left completely afloat. They sat behind the refreshments table with me instead of mingling. I saw a 6th grader I'm particularly fond of, an excellent writer and a really funny kid, sitting by himself on one side of the gym. I went over to say "hi" and, in doing so, singled him out somehow. I could see the panic in his eyes, seriously. His voice was shaking when he told me that he didn't like dances and he thought it was stupid that everybody had to go. What would I even say to him?
