Ah, middle school. How could anyone forget those gloriously awkward years, like a coming-of-age movie but with a slow, drawn out transformation rather than the sudden flip of a switch from awkward in pretty much every movie set at this time in the character’s life.
I’ll be the first to admit, middle school years were by no means my peak years. For starters, I chose only to wear jeans, tie dye t-shirts, and sneakers, save for winter when I switched over to the various primary colored sweatshirts with “GAP” emblazoned across the front. At the time, I thought I was the height of fashion for those of us that fall somewhere between tomboy and wearing skirts everyday. Looking back, I appeared to be someone who was unaware that other articles of clothing exist. But hey, I was happy, and I’m sure that tie-dye t-shirt vendors in the greater Hershey area who now had a regular customer were too.
See, the thing about these awkward middle school years is that you don’t truly understand how awkward they were until you look back at them. While in the midst of 6th, 7th, and 8th grade, sure I knew that I was a bit unsure of myself and still figuring things out, but who isn’t at any given time? It’s really the coupling of experimental hairstyles, keeping up with fads (if you want silly bands please let me know I have TOO MANY), and, of course, testing boundaries. Maybe that’s why middle school teachers are so tough, because their students are constantly testing them to see just how far they can go. I can remember countless times when my fellow classmates said things specifically to get reactions from the teacher, only to revert back to their innocent facade when things started to look like lunch detention might be around the corner. Sometimes they just didn’t get that the teacher had more power, and probably deserved more respect than they were given. At least, that’s only what I can assume from the girl I overheard relaying a story to her friend in the HUB this week, in which she stated:
“You are a grown woman, I am in middle school, you don’t get to talk to me that way.”
The tale, though I heard only snippets of it, was centered around a middle school teacher that she really did not like had recently run into again. I guess it unearthed some pretty bad memories, because this girl was not holding back in her apparent hatred for the subject she taught and the teacher that taught it. You could almost see her middle school self living the moment of this specific incident with said teacher, and watch the anger boil over.
Whether or not you had a bad experience with a teacher in these formative years, I think it’s safe to say none of us have forgotten our pre-high school days, as much as we may try. When I reflect on those years though, I try not to cringe at the uneven bangs I sported and questionable outfit choices I made. Instead, I look at it as a memory of the time I was figuring it all out to get me to where I am today, GAP sweatshirts and all.
