The Angst that is Middle School

Our school district is just switching from Junior High (7-9) to Middle School (6-8) this year. That puts my 11 year old in the first crop of 6th graders to have to brave the halls of Webber Middle School. It's been a very intimidating idea for her (and her mother). She's been adamantly against it. We drive by the middle school on our way to church most weeks, and she yells and shouts and won't look at the school whenever we pass it. Sure, most of it is just typical Lindsay antics, but there is also a lot of real live anxiety in there, too. And who wouldn't be anxious? Almost every adult I talk to remembers those middle school years with loathing. It's just such an awkward time. Everything is in flux: your sense of self, your physical body, your place in the crowd, etc. The "crowd" is almost overnight outrageously important. The whole "mob mentality" idea really begins. I still remember the Esprit shirt that every cool 8th grader had: white with thin, colored stripes, snap up front. Also, there was a certain shade of L'Oreal lipstick/gloss that we all HAD to have. It's just such a crazy time. Anyway, so now I'm faced with the daunting task of convincing my 11 year old that it won't be that bad, that there's really nothing to be afraid of, that it will actually be FUN!! (And, in some ways, it will be fun: a whole class devoted to science!!)

So, we found out two weeks ago that we will be out of town for the 6th grade open house night when they will get their schedules and locker assignments. Great. We're going to start out behind, AGAIN. One call to the office was a dead-end, "Just come in early on the first day of school." Then, I thought about it again. I have an 11 year old here with almost clinically diagnosable levels of anxiety. Surely, somebody could help me out and print out her schedule a day early. Well, I dropped by yesterday and found someone just that helpful. Phew! She said to come back tomorrow, and she'd have the schedule, etc. printed out for me. Thank you. Thank you, Mrs. Lemmon.

So, we get all of our school supplies ready (to the tune of about $150) and head up to the school. It all felt so weird. Trying to be up-beat and positive for my little girl but knowing inside that it might, in reality, be sort of a yucky time. As we walk in, I get the weirdest wave or flash back of feelings. Two girls (and you could tell they were most likely popular 8th graders-to-be) walked out of the school. They were all blonded and tanned and big in all the right places and skinny in all the right places. I got a total middle schooler feeling of inadequacy/jealousy/dread/inferiority. It was so wild!! Here I am, a thirty-six year old woman and mother of 5 children. Totally confident (well, most days...) in who I am, and I totally got all those feelings rushing back. It was so crazy.

Well, we went into the school. The gal with our schedule couldn't have been more nice. We ironed out a few obvious schedule conflicts (she can't do band, because her braces make it next to impossible to play the french horn), and we were off to explore the school. We went first to her locker. Have I ever mentioned that Lindsay, though she is one of the brightest 11 year olds I know (I'm, of course, not biased at all...), can't tell her left from her right? Seriously. It's a brain thing. Her mind just works in a different way. Also, most days her shirt is on backwards. It's hilarious. Well, just try opening up a locker when you can't tell your left from your right. She finally got the hang of it after like 7 tries. I was so grateful that we had an empty hallway of lockers to be experimenting in rather than a sea of swarming 6th and 7th graders. Phew! Then, we went to map out her classes. Her home-room teacher happened to be in there. Geography. Mr. Poduska. Seemed really nice. Phew, again. And we went from there through the rest of her 9 classes. At one point, we even asked some intimidating looking 8th graders-to-be where the gym was, and they very politely and kindly showed us. We had a little learning moment together about the whole "don't-judge-a-book-by-its-cover" idea after that encounter.

Anyway, all in all we survived. And I think that's how most of us got through middle school or junior high or adolescence. I'm so excited for Lindz. She's going to have so much fun (and growth, and angst, and learning) over the next three years. Hopefully, she'll always know that there is someone waiting at home for her who will listen to all the details of her adventures there. And, hey, if it'll help, I'll even go searching for a specific white with colored stripes Esprit shirt. Webber Middle School, here we come!!