Everyone keeps asking me how I like working with high school students. The best way to describe it is that last Friday during 8th period, I asked the kids to be quiet. And they did. On the first request. In middle school that request would have been followed by several more requests, each louder than the previous one, and then the threats of phone calls home.
It's night and day, people. And now I tell everyone with a middle schooler that it really does get better.
I had no intentions of being a teacher, and I really don't believe I'll be doing this for the rest of my life. My passions lie in other areas, but I do believe that God placed me in this field for a reason. I spent 4 years working with 7th graders, and even though they were some of the toughest years, they were also healing for me. It was a place I needed to be to connect some dots and gain some perspective to heal some long-standing wounds I incurred during my own 7th grade year.
I firmly believe my high school experience will be the same.
My high school years were so difficult for me that they actually exist in my memory as one dark blind spot. That's really weird for me because I have such a freakish memory. I still remember the layout of my 3rd grade classroom and what I got for Christmas in 1981. I can even tell you what dress I wore for my 1st grade picture (which I only saw one time in a yearbook).
But high school? I tend to rely more on the memories of my friends. They've pieced together some of the gaps for me, but it's still a black hole. I do remember how much I despised the high school culture of pep rallys and dances and parties and football games. I never saw the value in them. I've never missed them.
We're having a pep rally tomorrow for our first football game, and you should see me walking down the hallways. Just this morning I said to someone, "a pep rally and a 3-day weekend...this is the best week ever."
I mean that.
I am so freakin' excited about this pep rally tomorrow. I'll be sitting in the crowd of students with my school colors and pin. I can't wait to cheer and learn the chants. We're the Indians, and they do the same battle cry song every school with this mascot does. I even want to go work the concession stand at the game, but I don't think my dear one will go for that on such short notice. Some other time.
High school isn't so bad after all.
It's night and day, people. And now I tell everyone with a middle schooler that it really does get better.
I had no intentions of being a teacher, and I really don't believe I'll be doing this for the rest of my life. My passions lie in other areas, but I do believe that God placed me in this field for a reason. I spent 4 years working with 7th graders, and even though they were some of the toughest years, they were also healing for me. It was a place I needed to be to connect some dots and gain some perspective to heal some long-standing wounds I incurred during my own 7th grade year.
I firmly believe my high school experience will be the same.
My high school years were so difficult for me that they actually exist in my memory as one dark blind spot. That's really weird for me because I have such a freakish memory. I still remember the layout of my 3rd grade classroom and what I got for Christmas in 1981. I can even tell you what dress I wore for my 1st grade picture (which I only saw one time in a yearbook).
But high school? I tend to rely more on the memories of my friends. They've pieced together some of the gaps for me, but it's still a black hole. I do remember how much I despised the high school culture of pep rallys and dances and parties and football games. I never saw the value in them. I've never missed them.
We're having a pep rally tomorrow for our first football game, and you should see me walking down the hallways. Just this morning I said to someone, "a pep rally and a 3-day weekend...this is the best week ever."
I mean that.
I am so freakin' excited about this pep rally tomorrow. I'll be sitting in the crowd of students with my school colors and pin. I can't wait to cheer and learn the chants. We're the Indians, and they do the same battle cry song every school with this mascot does. I even want to go work the concession stand at the game, but I don't think my dear one will go for that on such short notice. Some other time.
High school isn't so bad after all.
Comments
I wasn't a pep rally girl either. That's probably why I like you so much :)
I think more people should take the time to connect the dots of their youth. I'm glad to hear you embraced the gift that was handed to you.