I hated middle school and so did every person I know. When people learn that I teach 7th grade, the most popular response is, “7th grade was the worst year of my life.” They don’t understand how I could love this awkward, smelly, hormonally overactive (and hormonally challenged) set. All I can answer is that I never thought I’d end up here, and be happy about it. I was going to be a teacher of literature. I was going to transform the lives of high school students with Shakespeare and Remarque. I was sure of it.
The first 2 years I taught Freshmen, Sophomores and SDAIE English, and they were the worst years of my life. From being hired 3 days before school started with, “I just need a warm body in the room,” to being blamed when I was physically assaulted by a student, ending with my final review of, “This may not be the occupation for you. You may someday be adequate, but you’ll never be good or great,” I went home and cried every night. I can now say with complete certainty that some of my problems were due to my inexperience, my age (I turned 22 the month before I signed my contract), and a very hot, youthful temper. However, I am also certain that being the youngest on staff by 15 years, not being willing to stand up for myself, and an antagonistic administration contributed greatly to my unhappiness. Somewhere in my files, I still have my official reprimand for continuing to wear green toenail polish! So when the pink slip came in March of my second year, the panic that accompanies those horrid pieces of paper was outweighed by the relief of knowing that I could escape my own private hell.
When I was applying for new jobs, I sent in over 60 applications for a huge variety of positions. Feeling insecure about my ability as an educator, I was particularly tempted by scripted programs in San Jose’s low performance schools (I got 2 offers for this gig, that I almost accepted). I figured that I couldn’t screw up a job like that. The middle school interview was already scheduled though, and I hate to cancel on people, so I dry cleaned my “grown-up” suit one more time, took off the eye-liner, ditched the second earrings, and made sure to pull my hair up into a very-not-24-year-old bun – I couldn’t take another administrator asking me, “Just how old are you?”
I didn’t know that an interview could be so much fun. The woman I spoke to was warm and funny, and excited about the chance to have an ex-high school teacher on staff. Karen and I talked about my belief that a classroom should be more “controlled chaos” than “silent zone,” that ELLs are just as capable as EOs, and that the teacher should not always be the center of attention. Somewhere in there, we also talked about my shoes (gorgeous pinstripe heels), and my decision to ditch those second earrings (she has 3 in each ear). By the end of the interview I had laughed more than in my last month at the HS, and was determined not to take one of those other warm-body jobs, even if this interview didn’t pan out. Then, 2 hours later, I was driving back to the DO, with all the paperwork necessary to sign my contract.
So, why do I love my 7th graders? Honestly, I’m sure that part of it is residual fear from my first 2 years. I associate high school with panic, disappointment, exhaustion, assault and fear. I was not myself for those 2 years, and the thought of going back to that makes me feel sick to my stomach. I do miss the literature, but that is a small price to pay for what I have found in middle school. I have kids who are still excited to learn. I have kids who still believe that they can be anything they want to be, and I can help give them the tools to do it. Middle school students are willing to play SilentBall on a rainy lunch period and sing a silly Onomatopoeia song, but can discuss why The Giver is relevant to our own society. They miss me when I’m gone, they are honest without being malicious (most of the time), and they are fun to be with. Middle school is just a better fit for me. Of course, you couldn’t pay me enough to teach any lower, including 6th grade, or any higher – 8th graders are punks! I think that, in the words of my principal, “To be a good middle school teacher you have to be sarcastic, energetic, silly, academic, loud, soft, maternal and a drill sergeant. You have to understand the middle school sucks for everybody, and that you can make the difference between this being the worst year of their life, and a safe place to be in a chaotic world.” I think that I do…. When people tell me that 7th grade was the worst year of their life, I just smile, hoping (and in some cases quite certain) that for so many of my students, this will not be their answer in 15 years.
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2 comments:
Yay, 7th grade--maybe I should have tried it (except you and Carolyn already have that one covered nicely!) Good piece--no real suggestions to revise something so effective.
I know this post is way old but I just wanted to say, I wish I'd had you as a teacher in 7th grade. I think if I'd had even one teacher who cared, that might not have been such a horrific year.
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