Public Girl

The things taught in schools are not an education but the means of an education.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I don’t remember too much of middle school. I guess now would be the time to mention that I’m a country girl, at least as far as locale is concerned. I grew up in the middle of a cornfield. All the neighbor kids went to the public school, so I would at least know some people.


The next door boys were a few years older with the exception of one who was five or so years younger than me. They were great playmates until bicycles were traded for cars. There was one girl on the block my age. When it came to school, we were different cliques. She was popular/sporty and I was me.

Our school system is divided. There is an elementary school in the small incorporated town I lived in. Once sixth grade was reached, everyone got bussed to the same middle school. This made it better for me. I wasn’t the only transfer kid.

It was all new. I rode a bus and was suddenly in a class of over a hundred students. I had a locker and we had to move classroom to classroom. Instead of one teacher there were now seven. Talk about a culture shock!

Middle school is middle ground. No one really knows who to be friends with quite yet. The innocence mold is starting to crack. High School is when it will break, but for middle school a person is safe.

What I do remember of middle school is:

1) I read more than was probably health. It was an escape for me; my
parent’s divorce was getting nastier at home.

2) I was a bully. I tormented one boy in particular. The whole purpose
of my doing so was to prove I didn’t like him. The problem is that in
middle school speak: beating someone up means you like them. What
makes it even more ironic is we went to Junior Prom together.

3) The answer to the question ‘Will you go out with me?’ is a resounding
“Hell NO!!!” loud enough for the entire bus to hear and leave me
mortified and in tears while everyone laughed.

4) I am a counselor case.

5) I am a brain not an athlete. I joined a group of like-minded girls
protesting a homeroom activity involving a sack race under the premise
it was sexist and things would bounce that didn’t need to. We just
didn’t want to jump.

Those are pretty much the main points. Life starts in High School anyway, right? ~_^


Mister G.A.G. October 24, 2009 at 9:37 AM  

Something tells me middle school was prelude to a much more agitated phase. :)

I have just discovered your blog. A new fan here :)


Welcome to my little part of the blogosphere. I started this blog for the express purpose of proving that no matter what happens in life, you are not alone. I am sharing my stories from my school days, dating disasters, and personal trials.