School Days

Our family is about to enter a new phase: Middle School.

When Michele and I first met; she was going through a very bad divorce and I was coming off a very disappointing relationship. We wouldn't date for several more years. That's for another piece. But I remember, when we were introduced and met to chat the first time--her adorable son, Nicholas. He was about four at the time. Always smiling; always easy to make laugh. And always laughing. Until I got married, I was never much into kids, although I thought it would be novel to have one of my own. But Nick seemed to be a great template for the imaginary "ideal kid."

In an earlier blog; I discussed Nick's finally acquiring a Nintendo Wii. Tuesday; Nick puts the Wii on the back burner and heads off to an experience he'll hopefully remember longer than the Wii: Farmwell Station Middle School.

As anyone at the top end of the 45-54 demo like I am can attest; school is different these days. I can't relate. For me, public school was K-6, then 7-9, then 10-12. I vividly remember the first day of seventh grade. We didn't have "orientation" or an Ice Cream Social, where parents ate ice cream and waited patiently for their darlings to finish their tour, get their class schedules, meet their teachers , buy Spirit Wear and try out their locker combinations. We, on the other hand, got our class schedules sometime in July, in a little 3/4 size envelope, printed out on a grid on one of those old mainframe data printers. We simply showed up at our new school the day after Labor Day and fended for ourselves. And everyone was thrown in the mix together. We feared getting "rooked," where 8th and 9th graders would try to mark your face or clothing with lipstick. Or, getting "froot looped," which is where someone would yank the hang loop off the back of your shirt, effectively ruining it, since the hang loop was sewn into the shoulder pleat just below the collar. If you haven't guessed by now; this was the 60s. We wore Bass Weejuns, Peters golf jackets, wore Canterbury belts and carried Canterbury wallets. We were preppy but didn't know it. We didn't have Abercrombie or Old Navy. We had The Varsity Shop.

Nowadays; middle school starts in sixth grade. Sorry, but that's way too young. The administrator who made that decision should be shot. To me, every phase of public school needs a point where the student becomes the big fish in the pond. Sixth grade for elementary; 9th grade for junior high and 12th grade for high school. These are tried-and-true transitional ages. I just don't think sixth graders are necessarily ready for the rigors of large-scale social interaction. That includes culture shocks like fighting, first day in the locker room and missing the bus when you live eight miles away.

Oops. I spoke too soon. Lots has happened since 1966-1970, when I went to middle school. Kids don't worry about getting in a playground scrap nowadays. They worry about being gunned down because the kid sitting next to them brought their dad's Glock 40 for a nouveau version of Show and Tell. Girls don't just worry about menstrual cramps and why boys suddenly like them. They worry Justin will be at Amber's party next Friday night while her parents are away. Not that they don't like Justin, but Justin's presence might mean sudden parenthood. Whether they like it or not.

Geez. Remember when the norm was "let's not and say we did?" Okay. perhaps that's why middle school now starts in sixth grade. Perhaps this is why kids are now in a more-structured setting at an earlier age. Sex, drugs, guns, gangs. Fashion. Peer pressure. It gets younger and younger.

That's really sad.

As you get older; you realize there's a time and place for everything. And as you look back on your life; you realize losing one's innocence wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Fun at the time? Maybe. But how you'd love to have those couple of years back now...

These days; middle school is highly-structured and highly-specialized. Gone are the six or seven period days. Now; it's four 90 minute blocks, with different classes on alternating days. Kinda like college. And the school resembles prison. No bars, but each grade is, for the most part, sequestered in their own "house." No more "lunch buddies." Each homeroom must eat lunch together. There is little if any cross-socialization.

Remember the first time you saw a boy and girl holding hands, walking down the hall? I don't know about Farmwell, but in other schools, such PDA today will get you suspended, if not expelled. Same for horseplay or even a scuffle that gets broken up before it escalates. Text your friend in History class and get caught? You'll need an attorney.

All this in mind; we've tried to get Nick to realize he's not the only one going through this tomorrow. Millions of kids nationwide will take the next step toward adulthood. He's psyched, too. Already has his bookbag packed with the requisite school supplies. Now, if he can just get through the next 23 hours...

I hope Nick remembers middle school as a positive experience. Eighth grade is usually the worst, transitionally. But, in reality; they all are. All we can do, as parents, is make sure Nick knows right from wrong, support him unconditionally and point him in the right direction. And, wish we were his age again--and know what we know now...