As we approach the end
of another school year, I find myself desperately clinging onto whatever is
left of this year’s calendar, hoping in someway that by absorbing every morsel
of the end-of-year events, I’ll somehow slow the future. I admittedly fear what’s around the
corner. I’ve been dreading the prospect
of it since I first became a parent. It’s
been waiting out there…. Next year, Jack enters middle school. (Cue scary organ
music: dun dun dun!)
Middle school is the newer, more educationally sound term
for what I still absentmindedly call junior high. There have been countless number of books
written about those pre-teen/early teenage school years, and the vast majority
of them paint a pretty bleak picture.
From what I remember of my own experience, those books actually
understate the awfulness of those years.
When I look back on my school years, I often think about how
fortunate I was to have had the wonderfully fulfilling high school experience that I had (senior high – to clarify - as opposed to junior high). The
last three years that I was in high school form some of the best memories I
have of my youth. (I omit my freshman year because, frankly, I was a
knucklehead who didn’t fully understand how to take advantage of the high
school experience yet.) The freedoms
high school afforded me have helped to define who I was to become as a
person. I began to understand the value
of a good education. Being able to
participate in the performing arts gave me self-confidence and a work ethic
that I rely upon nearly every day in my professional life. I made many, many lifelong friends – people
who enriched my life then and continue to do so today. High school was a life changing experience
for me and I’ll be forever grateful for the lesson learned.
However, there are times when I question if my affection for
my high school memories is simply a result of the comparison I can make to my days in
junior high. Junior high, to me, was
torturous. I could probably write a 1000
page book on the unique anguish of the “geeky boy” in junior high in the
80’s. Some kids seemed to be
comfortable in their discomfort back then.
They knew who they were, had confidence in the direction they were
going, knew their strengths, could admit and laugh at their deficiencies, and
generally took the social pressures in stride.
I wasn’t one of those kids.
Junior high was the first time that I started to care about
what other kids thought about me. My
wife tells me that girls tend to have this self-awareness much earlier. It’s probably the reason that some girls have
a more difficult time socially in grade school than boys generally do. Girls are aware of what others think. Boys at that age are blissfully dumb…
There is an old Bill Cosby joke that goes
something like this: “I said to a guy,
"Tell me, what is it about cocaine that makes it so wonderful," and
he said, "Because it intensifies your personality." I said,
"Yes, but what if you're an asshole?" In my experience, junior
high is like crack cocaine for the pre-teen set. And there are truly a bunch of assholes at
that age.
In my recollection of junior high, the jocks from grade
school got jockier. And the brains got
brainier. The bullies got bullyier and
the just plain mean kids got meaner. Me?
I was the dopey, oft-confused, non-confident kid who was trying to fit in but
wasn’t very successful at it. I didn’t
realize that the “popular” kids needed other kids like me to prop them up, and
I was willing fodder to elevate their status.
Looking back on those two years, all I can say is those were not my
finest moments.
So, yes, I now am faced with the fact that Jack will be
jumping into the shark tank next year. I
think if you’re a parent this next statement will make total sense… for all the
misery that I endured in junior high years, I would do it all over again if it
meant that Jack wouldn’t have to endure any of it. I feel like the new parent who is rocking
their sick infant and asking God to please transfer the pain and illness the
child is feeling to him instead. See, I
know I can take it…I did it once; I can do it again. But to subject my innocent, sweet Jack to the
wolves of middle school… It’s quite a
burden.
My only solace in this comes from Jack himself. Jack makes me proud in ways that I can’t clearly
communicate. Maybe the best way to say
it is this: Jack is the most admirable person I know. He has far exceeded my expectations and set
the bar very high for his brothers and sister. To be clear, I’m not patting
myself on the back for how Jack has turned out, although I hope that I helped
in some way. But Jack from the time he
was very little had some really special qualities.
No one wants to read a father’s gushing praise of his own
son. But allow me a moment to illuminate
my prior statement about my admiration for Jack. He is the moral compass of our family. He understands the world around him and
strives to make it a better place. As
his mother often says – there is goodness in his heart.
From a very young age, Jack was aware of his
surroundings. When my mother and father
would come to visit us, we’d frequently go for a walk around our
neighborhood. My father, having
experience a mild stroke, was not the swiftest of foot. Jack, at age two, of his own volition, would
hold his grandfather’s hand to make sure that the group would not leave them
behind. Jack was the kid in preschool
who would try to get all the other kids to the join the circle at reading time. These days, Jack finds ways to incorporate a
lot of different interests into playground games so his varied social set at
school can all be included in recess activities together. Exclusion of friends or family has never been
option for Jack.
Jack has had his challenges in life. He worked with a speech therapist for a
number of years to overcome some early articulation problems. Later, he was diagnosed with an auditory
processing disorder, which created some challenges to his early reading
experiences. Because of this issue, Jack struggled with some of his schoolwork
early on, especially reading and spelling.
And there is no magic pill to fix this particular problem. Jack had to combine learning some coping
skills with pure hard work. I’ll never
say these challenges were a blessing, but I will say that there were important
lessons to be learned from them. Today,
Jack understands how to overcome a challenge.
He has the forbearance to work hard and focus on a goal. He knows how to earn success. And to prove it, he’s a straight A student.
Above all, though, Jack embodies a characteristic that can’t
be taught. He cares. He cares about his friends. When one of his friends is emotionally
wounded, Jack feels their pain. When a
friend is falsely accused, Jack feels the injustice. And when a friend is celebrating, Jack feels
the elation.
Jack genuinely cares about his family. He genuinely cares about his community. He genuinely cares about the nation and
world.
And the accolades could go on and on… Jack helps without
being asked. Jack takes responsibility
even when it means taking the blame.
Jack leads by example. Jack
communicates clearly and effectively. Jack
has an intellectual curiosity and allows himself to explore where his mind
takes him.
Maybe the best part of Jack, to me, is that he knows who he
is. He is confident. No one can define him but him. I think that
might the key to not just surviving middle school, but thriving. And not just in the middle school years, but
all the years ahead. Jack does know who
he is. He is proud of himself without
being arrogant. He’s strong in his
convictions and self-assured in his skill set.
So, while the next school year looms and my dread lays in
wait, I’m hoping that Jack’s trust in himself continues to grow. Now that I’m older, I know that no one can
take away your dignity if you don’t allow them to. I’m pretty sure Jack knows that, too. Here’s to hoping that that is secret
ingredient to happiness in middle school!
