Middle School Culture Shock

I wish someone had told me about middle school when my oldest child was still in 5th grade. It’s not that I didn’t talk to people about it; I did. But some people told me about the drugs and (unbelievably) the sexual activity going on in middle school. Another mother told me about how her son was mercilessly bullied until he was contemplating suicide. When I heard these issues being discussed about middle school, I was reasonably confident that my son was prepared and would not be affected by them, being a smart kid, who is strong and popular. But no one had prepared me for the fundamental culture shock of middle school.

I knew that the school was much larger than the elementary school and that the children changed classes, and therefore had many different teachers. However, I didn’t know that the attitude of the teachers and the administration would be so different. I want to make clear that the middle school is not far from where we live, so it draws from our neighborhood and the surrounding neighborhoods, including everyone who went to my kids’ elementary school plus kids from other elementary schools, so it is not a regional or socio-economic difference. It’s more basic than that.

For example, in elementary school, when a kid seems to be having trouble with either grades or behavior, or sometimes for no reason at all, the teacher will contact the parent to arrange a parent-teacher conference to discuss and resolve the situation. In middle school, there is no such reaching out by the teachers. Maybe it’s because they have so many students that they see every day, but if the parent does not initiate contact, there is no contact between the parent and the teacher even if there is a need for the child to get some help.

Another major difference is in how they handle discipline. For example, the kids have to change classes and they have five minutes to get from one classroom to another. If they dawdle and are late, instead of going to the office and getting a late pass, they are sent to the Tardy Room, where they basically sit there and do nothing. Then it is the kid’s responsibility to approach the teacher and ask for the missed classwork to do as homework.

So the idea is that you take kids who are a bit challenged in the area of responsibility and rule following and you allow them to miss class, first of all. This reminds me of the Song of the South books I read as a child, where the rabbit tells the fox “Please, whatever you do, don’t throw me in that briar patch!” So the fox throws him in there, exactly where the rabbit makes his home. Oh, no! You mean I don’t have to sit in class and I get to hang out with my friends and goof off? Please don’t make me go there again!

Then you put the same responsibility-challenged kid in a position where he has to be proactive about following up with his teacher to get the assignment. Basically, it’s a recipe for failure.

The guidance counselor told me that many kids coming in to middle school for the first time get carried away with all of the relative freedom of movement that they have there in comparison to elementary school, and this causes problems for them, particularly with boys. But apparently, this is something that parents have to find out for themselves, a sort of trial by fire.

The lesson in all this, I suppose, is that parents need to be much more nosy and on top of their kids once they get to middle school, just at an age where kids’ hormones are kicking in and they are the most resistant to overbearing parenting or restrictions on their activities. Just another reason why parenting is the hardest job in the world…

Good Morning, Sunshine!

Let me preface this post by saying that I am not a morning person by nature. People who are full of energy and perkiness first thing in the morning annoy me. In the dim recesses of memory from BK (before kids), I remember sleeping in until noon on a Sunday, and reading the New York Times in bed with my coffee and bagel until I felt like getting up. It all seems like a lovely dream now...

However, for the last 10 years or so, I have had to get up early to get my kids to school. Now, my body, like an old trail horse that’s done the same thing a million times, gets up no later than 6:30 AM, regardless of whether it is a school day or a weekend or a holiday or summer vacation. My children, though, have not had the same conditioning and mornings can require practically superhuman patience, energy and creativity to get them up and out on time.

My waking-kids-up-for-school strategy has morphed over time. With Danny, my oldest, I had admittedly unrealistic expectations. I thought that since he knew he had to be at preschool at a certain time and it was half an hour drive, he would naturally make sure to get up when he was supposed to. Ha! From the time he could talk, my husband and I called Danny The Negotiator. He milked the morning time for all it was worth, trading cuddle time, original improptu fictional stories, and promises of future treats for his cooperation. Once he had sealed the deal, he got up, no problem.

My next child, Mia, was a whole different story. A thermonuclear device could go off next to her head and she would snore, roll over and continue sleeping. When she was little, she would not wake up, no matter what I did. Frustrated, I would pick out her outfit and get her completely dressed while she remained blissfully, sound asleep. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, once I had her dressed, with socks and shoes and everything, she would wake up just enough to tear off everything that I had just put on her because she didn’t want to wear that today. I yelled a lot in those days, but it was with great restraint that I refrained from introducing my angelic toddler to some of the more colorful phrases in the English language.

Miriam, number three, followed in her brother’s footsteps. Although she usually had no trouble waking up, she used the situation to get maximum cuddle time. However, on those mornings after late night marathon gigglefests with Mia, with whom she shares a room, Miriam’s whines and screaming have been known to shatter glass and shake paintings off the walls several houses over. Once you have experienced this you will go to great lengths to ensure that you never have to endure a repeat performance.

That is when I became a stand up comedian. No, I have never performed my comedy act for any bigger audience than my two oldest daughters. But each morning, my show consists of improv comedy including making up songs with silly lyrics, joking, tickling, sarcasm, and various animal noises (don’t ask). Each girl has been at various times a princess (Mia is always Sleeping Beauty for obvious reasons), a kitten, a superhero, a dog, a meerkat, or a bear (Mia again because she hibernates. “It’s spring, little bear!” I shout at her and sometimes she wakes up enough to smile.). I walk my fingers all over Miriam as she is sleeping and they become the character of Little Man, whom she will usually wake up to interact with. When she doesn’t wake up right away, Little Man gets peeved and uses his little foot to kick her in the nose.

Mia still will sleep until she only has ten minutes left before she has to leave, but so far, they have made the bus every time this school year except once (in the interest of full disclosure, I have had to drive them to the bus stop several times to make sure they didn’t miss it).

Sometimes my morning routine stretches my powers of creativity and sometimes it stretches the limits of my patience, but overall, I find that it is much better to start the day with love and silliness than with frustration and yelling. In fact, most days, I actually look forward to getting up and doing my thing. So, good morning, my little rays of sunshine! You are as good a reason as any to get up in the morning.