Middle School...
When people ask me what I teach and I respond with “8th grade English,” almost always they physically recoil in some way and either comment on what a traumatizing experience they had in middle school or how horrendous hormone driven young adolescents can be. Either way, they think I’m nuts for choosing to teach at the middle school level.
I get it, but I truly enjoy being right in the middle. The dependence of elementary students and foundational learning that takes place at that time feels daunting to me. The rigor and pressure of high school life feels heavy. But I didn’t start out knowing what level I wanted to work with, I just knew I wanted to teach, but Otterbein University’s Middle Childhood Program intrigued me because so much of the focus was on the student. I took classes solely exploring the young adolescent mind and body, I learned how to best reach them, support them, and help them access the curriculum. Social and emotional learning was at the forefront of my education, as well as the uniqueness of these middle years.
Most of the time, it can be really hard to be caught in the middle, wavering between one thing and the next. That is how middle schoolers feel, no longer little kids, but not quite ready for the independence and openness that comes with a young adult life. That’s why middle school is magical. Magical because students go from comprehending to analyzing, as well as, identifying to inferring; they start to see more in what surrounds them. It’s also magical because they go from a narrow scope of the world to a much wider view and understanding. But the most magical thing, is that students in these middle years start to see glimpses of who they want to be. As a middle school teacher our job is to reach each one of them right where they are and do so with grace.
Middle school can be hard though, really really hard. Those that have lived it know and that’s why I’m often met with wide eyes when I share my career choice. As a student myself, I was not magically shielded from the hardships of middle school by no means. I was super tall and lanky, with 80’s bangs (in the 90’s) and extremely naive. I pushed against my parents, I didn’t want to have glasses anymore, I didn’t want to wear the clothes my mother picked out for me, I didn’t want to have long hair with bangs. So what did I do? I would hide my glasses in my locker, until a teacher outed me to my mom during a field trip (thanks Mrs. Simpson). I would bring another set of clothing and either change on the bus or in the bathroom once I got to school (thanks Courtney for covering for me). I even chopped off my ponytail (thanks sister for attempting to cover for me - I don’t know why I thought mama wouldn’t notice).
Middle School wasn’t just a time to rebel against my parents, but more so to navigate the social scene that was growing around me and figure out if I had it in me to be myself, when I lacked tremendous confidence. That’s why middle school is hard - who am I and where do I fit in - are the questions that sit at the forefront of one’s mind. I liked learning, I enjoyed the daily grind of school, I found myself even being called a teacher’s pet because I was and still am a rule follower and a pleaser. These qualities put me right into nerd status and my awkward body and lack of confidence didn’t help. I still remember the mean things that people said, daily. In middle school I also enjoyed music, I was in choir and played the flute for the band. On the flip side though. I was also an athlete. I made the winter cheerleading squad and my dad forced me to tryout for a team sport and so he drove me, kicking and screaming, to volleyball tryouts (this of course is a sport I fell in love with and played all the way through college - thanks dad). I was a part of many arenas - academics, music, athletics - who am I and where do I fit in? It wasn’t until high school that I realized I can be all things and celebrate all aspects of who I am, in middle school I just wanted to fit in, but where and so I was constantly questioning myself and my choices.
It takes a village to survive the constant questioning that comes with young adolescent life. I know this from experience, and I’m lucky to now play that role for my students. During my middle school years I leaned on my friends who saw me for me - Jennie and Courtney - even when I wavered with where I belonged and struggled to not always compare or be someone I wasn’t. I also remember the teachers who inspired me and reminded me of my worth - Ms. Santiago, Mrs. Castle, Mrs. Thornburg, Mrs. Simpson, Ms. Eiken, Mrs. Zink, and Mrs. Thompson. As much as I wanted to push away from my family because I was stretching my wings, my mom, dad and sister were the constant, I could always count on and go to. The same is true for the students I work with every day. Some have a solid friend group, while others struggle to find their footing socially, some build important relationships with their teachers, while others don’t need us quite as much, and then some appreciate the positive impact their family has on their lives, but others unfortunately do not have that same consistent support from home. Everyone’s village looks different, but for a young adolescent the most important thing is that someone is there to support their mental health and help that youth feel seen and heard. Because those questions - who am I and where do I fit in - those questions feel so very important to a young adolescent.
One aspect that makes teaching middle school so special for me, is that I teach in the same building that I attended. The same hallways where I struggled, the same classrooms where I excelled, the same lunch room that gave me anxiety, the same choir room where I found joy. I didn’t go seeking this position because my experience was perfect, it’s quite the opposite. I came back here in hopes of being a source of light and direction for students who desperately need it. I came back here in hopes of being a Mrs. Thornburg for a student, she inspired me and reminded me of my worth every day. I came back here in hopes of making a difference.
My oldest son, Parker, will be attending middle school in a few weeks. He has been on my heart and in my prayers this entire summer, really ever since he walked out of the door of the elementary school. When Parker headed off to Kindergarten many moons ago, I might have been the only mom that wasn’t crying. I didn’t cry because I wasn’t worried, I knew he was ready and I knew he was in good hands. I’m not worried for this next transition, once again I know he is ready and I know he will be in good hands, but I also know there are things he’s not quite ready for and he won’t always fall into the right hands. The pressures are greater now for a young adolescent, standards are higher, communication travels more quickly and the face of this community has changed. My hope is that he always feels that he has a safe haven here at home, that he leans on those friends that see him for who he is and that he builds relationships with teachers that meet him where he is.
These middle years are hard, but there can be so much personal growth, that is why teaching in the middle school is such a rewarding job and why when you take the time to reflect, you can see that during your own middle school experience you were shaping into the person that you are today.
