Wow! It's already almost the end of the quarter! We get report cards this week. We are reading The Wave in Language Arts right now. It is based on the true story of a school in California. There was a teacher who decided to create a social experiment to show his skeptical students how people can fall easily into a movement like the Nazi Party. However, things end up getting carried away. It's interesting. I mean, the way it relates to our school and how my peers think it relates to our school. Most are uninterested and probably won't read the book. Some will read the book, but think of it as some other world. Isn't that ironic, seeing as the book is about kids who don't see connections between past and present. Of course, there are some that will see those connections. They are the ones that keep me sane. It drives me nuts how closed off middle-schoolers are and how hard it is to get us to focus and take anything seriously. It isn't that middle-schoolers can't. Find an excited, engaging teacher to talk to kids about their lives and other's and people will pay attention. Maybe not all the time, but at least for a while. And that's better than letting kids live in their own little bubble of middle-school drama.

On the cover of my friend's binder is a family tree. This is no ordinary family tree. She is at the top of the tree and five branches come down from her. One of her daughters, according to the family tree, has five wives. Yes, wives. And she's not the only one. Polygamy, gay marriage, missing fathers, adopted kids, and transgenders are all on are tree. 'The Family' as members call it, is constantly growing. It is interesting that, in a setting that is one of the most unforgiving places in our society, this imaginary family is so incredibly creative. As for me, I'm the family elf.

One Month Into the School Year

Interims are already about to come out. However, in other ways, the school barely seems to be in session. We still haven't had our first PACE class; an International Baccalaureate Program introduction/remediation time period that we were supposed to have beginning with the first week of school. For the most part, I like my classes and my teachers. But I'm a whole lot more forgiving than most of my classmates.

Science

My teacher is a soft-spoken woman from the Dominican Republic. This year we are studying introductory chemistry and introductory physics. Part of science class every year is the science fair. For over a year, many of the science teachers have been vying for virtual science boards and this year they have finally succeeded. 

P.E.

This is the only class that I know I'm going to have a field trip for. In fact, we will have at least three field trips. I know, kind of strange, right? Field trips for P.E.? Hey! I'll take it.

Geometry

I am in the a class known to my peers as 'Super-TAG'. This means I am taking math two years above my grade level. As you can imagine, there is a relatively small group of people who take this class. In 6th grade, we were all in the same math class and became good friends. Last year, with the splitting of the schools, no one saw each other. This year, we are all back together again because they decided it didn't make sense to have two geometry classes. So, it's a little awkward, catching up on everything that went on in the past year, but almost everyone is very happy. It's kind of like a family reunion.

Language Arts

This curriculum was completely redone over the summer, apparently. Currently, we are reading Lord of the Flies, which every eighth grader has read for, probably, ever. Now, instead of having 'over-arcing themes', we have 'essential questions' and 'learning communities'.

Social Studies

My social studies teacher has a voice that drones like the buzzing of a fly, and lures you to sleep. He is a former cop who is easily distracted into telling 'cop stories' and having long discussions about things completely unrelated to civics. As for the actual curriculum, he shies away from anything even touching on controversy. I think I scare him. I brought up Sharia Law on the first day of class.

Engineering Technology/Woodworking/Nobody Even Knows

I signed up for Engineering Technonogy. Not Woodworking. But one of the engineering technology/woodworking was either fired or 'asked to leave' last year, so now we have one part-time teacher who is supposedly creating the curriculum for my combined class engineering technology/woodworking. (How those were thought of as the same thing, I have no clue.) But he isn't even teh one teaching us. We have a substitute who will be here for the first quarter only. Then, we will get another substitute. I really like the substitute but I spent the first two weeks learning how to measure an inch. However, maybe that was needed because it was truly impressive how many of the kids couldn't name the 1/2 inch marker and started measuring on the 1''.

German

Deutschklasse ist echt toll!!! German is really fun. This is my third combined class; the two 8th grade German classes have been condensed into one, so I get to see a lot of my friends. I also really like my teacher.

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Tomorrow is officially the last day of school before summer vacation. There is no real point in going. They actually made an announcement at the end of the day telling students that they were not to bring their backpacks to school. But it's still worth it. Tomorrow there will be finality in the air, the last hugs before summer, the year-book signings. You miss that if you don't show up.

On Friday, all of the 7th graders at my school unloaded out front waiting for three charter buses to come and take us to The Franklin Institute in Philadelphia. The first two buses came fifteen minutes late, the third bus came an hour and a half late. The driver was a short guy with wild white hair and a classic hat. We wondered how he managed to become a driver after he ran over several curves and kept crossing the highway lines.

We watched Avatar on the little screens above our heads. Or should I say half-watched. We also talked, texted, listened to i-pods and photographed everything on tiny cell phone cameras.

Almost three hours later we all piled out in front of the museum. It is an incredibly well thought out and fun place. We walked through a giant diorama of a heart and looked at the sun through a telescope as tall as myself. We managed to make our way through all four floors by the time the buses pulled up outside. We discovered, as we got on the bus, that the toilet had backed up. The smell stuck all the way home. We arrived back an hour and a half later than expected. In middle school, nothing runs on time. Come to think of it; what ever runs on time? Overall, however, it was quite a fun experience. Even if we hadn't made it to the museum, the bus rides with the rough-housing, prank texts (we got my friend good) and running over curves would be just as memorable.

I might as well have not gone to school on Thursday. I had a doctor's appointment, so I missed the first hour-and-a-half of the school day, so I missed drama; the only class I would've done anything in all day. After first period, we were supposed to go to 8th period (the schedule has been completely messed with because of SOL testing). So, I went to 8th period. I had forgotten 8th period was the testing period for Math 7 and pre-algebra. But not for algebra.

There are nine 7th graders in Algebra. We were told to go to our math class. There was a substitute teacher there, but no lesson plans, nothing. We talked, played cards, made snow-cones, talked some more... Finally, we moved to our next class. Gym. There weren't enough kids finished testing to dress out, so we sat in the bleachers and talked some more. We had lunch. Then we went to PACE, a forty-five minute period where we are technically supposed to be reading, but no one does. We talked some more.

Finally, we got to the last period of the day. Math. We thought we would do a practice SOL or math review. It turns out, the 8th graders had an SOL. Our class is comprised of nine 7th graders (including me) and sixteen 8th graders. Technically, our teacher is an 8th grade teacher, so she had to take the 8th graders up to the third floor to be their test monitor. That left us 7th graders for another two-and-a-half hours to kill off. Only, this time, we didn't have a substitute teacher so a hall monitor stood just outside our classroom all period. How did we kill off the time? We talked, played cards, drew on the whiteboard, talked some more...

What I Learned on Thursday

-The latest gossip

-How to work a snow-cone machine

-As much as administrators like to lecture about time; 

It's not about the amount of time you have, but how you use it.

SOL

Standards of Learning

The tests that decide what kind of a learning experience we receive the next year. If we do well, the school is allowed to have fun, the teachers are allowed to make their own lesson plans. If we don't, then the reformers come. The think of more 'creative' ways to get kids to pass their SOL's.

Student's Definition of 'Creative Learning'

Games, going outdoors, field trips, labs, meaningful creative projects, edible projects, songs...

Reformer's Definition of 'Creative Learning'

Worksheets, reading practice, slogans, campaigns with cheesy titles, encouraging posters, flashcards, cutting and pasting little definitions next to pictures, outlines...

Today, to get us pumped for SOL's, we had our annual SOL pep rally. It began with face-painted, flag bedecked students spilling into the gym to our jazz band (really good jazz band) playing 

'tonight's going to be a good night, tonight's gonna be a good, good, night..." Everyone sand along.

Then, one of our drama teacher's took the microphone. Our choir sang the national anthem, but the mics weren't working, so we watched them instead of hearing them. Then the two cheer-leading teams came out. They were obviously not very well thought out as a public image; one was entirely made up of whites, and the other entirely made up of blacks. It's not like nobody noticed, either. 

There was a competition with an obstacle course and SOL questions, and a tug-o-war championship. Overall, the entire thing was a bit lame. Oh, and, of course the two SOL teams ended up tying. Of course. 

The SOL's aren't a big deal for students like me. We don't even really study. But for some students, the SOL's are a big deal. These students sometimes know the exact same amount as I do. The difference is: I naturally process information; for some people it's much harder. 

My language arts teacher has devoted her class periods to test-taking skills instead of language arts review. Many kids have found it useful, though they would never fully admit it. 

So, what do you do as a teacher? You have a student who doesn't process information very well. Do you try to use creative teaching techniques to teach this student the key information, or do you teach this student from the text book in hope that they will do well on the SOL's? 

Or say you have a student who knows a lot about history. That student knows every leader of the suffragette movement, and every battle of World War II. Are you supposed to narrow that student's knowledge? Just for the SOL's? And who is to say that Susan B. Anthony is more important than Elizabeth Cady Stanton? 

"Don't think outside the box," my language arts teacher tells us. "Think inside the lines when you take the SOL's."

The bible-guy was out side of our school yesterday. He stands just outside the school boundaries and hands out pocket-size orange vinyl bibles. He only visits once or twice a year. My family has accumulated quite a collection through my brother's middle school years and mine.

A Profile

Tall girl, small voice. 

Middle-eastern, dark eyes, a tangle of black hair.

Never wears gym shorts, only sweatpants.

She used to down-cast her eyes 

and press her lips together

when they teased her.

Now she flails out her hand

and smiles confusedly,

uncertain.

For the past few days, my social studies class has procrastinated doing worksheets by sucking our teacher into conversations. And I am sure I am learning more from these conversations than any worksheet in the world.

We are learning about the civil rights movement right now. Our teacher began by asking us, a predominantly white honors class, how we would feel during this time period as a black...and as a white. Everyone cringed. We'd feel awkward, we said, guilty, uncomfortable. She asked us; what if we were raised that way? No one could answer.

She showed us a black-and-white picture of two schools. One was small with a group of black school children out front. The other was large and had well-kept lawns. We looked at the first one. Tell me what this is, she said. It's an old black school, someone yelled out. We talked about it awhile. We looked at the other one. And that's an old white school, someone else yelled. "How do you know?" Our teacher said, "There's no sign, no white children..."

"Well, we assumed..."We all started. We assumed.

For these past two days, that has been the basis for our conversations. We assume. But usually the assumptions we named were ones that we assumed others assumed about us.

Things That We Think Others Assume About Us

-That whites are rich, in all honors, and kind of snotty

-That blacks are rude

-That if your in an honors class (especially if you're black), you're a nerd

-That only blacks have problems at home

-All blacks are 'ghetto'

"Ghetto?" Our teacher asked, "Define 'ghetto'". No one said it was coming from a certain place or a background. Everything that was said was about appearance and actions. So different from the original use of the word.

"Wearing your pants on the ground." Someone said. 

"I wear my pants on the ground," a boy pointed out, "and I'm white."

"Drinking Kool-Aid," someone else yelled. 

"White kids can't drink Kool-Aid?" Our teacher laughed. We all laughed at the absurdity of it. There wasn't really a difference. And yet, if one of the white boys went up to someone and said "Yo, wasup homie", they'd automatically be told, "You're way too white." 

Even the vocabulary, though, is not all that different. Beast, cool, legit, sweet, 'sup...everyone uses them; blacks, whites, and hispanics.

As for whites being rich and snotty; yes, most of the whites at our school are from families with larger incomes, but it isn't as if anyone is proud of it. At one point the student who was talking about that very stereotype named a street with very large houses on it. Another kid, who lives on that street hid under the table. Money is not flaunted at our school.

And here's the other interesting thing. We all assume others assume things about us, but no one said they actually assume something about other people. 

So, do we assume and just aren't telling, or are we assuming without even realizing it? Or are we stuck in a tangle of imaginary assumptions of other people's assumptions? 

But isn't incredible we can all talk about it?

A Highly Interesting Event

A boy wore a skirt to the cafeteria this morning.

In fact, it was one of my friend's skirts. He wore it purely for the attention. And he got it. Almost everyone in the cafeteria has a picture of him on their cell phone, camera, video camera...

Unfortunately, they made him change. I can't see why. The skirt was past his fingertips.

A Middle School Hallway

Full of shouting.

Arms and legs, books and pens, strewn around, bouncing off walls.

Lockers slamming.

Gaggles of tweens.

"Get to your class! Get to your class!"

We just finished Leonardo DiCaprio's version of Romeo and Juliet in drama. Perhaps, however, the more interesting show was the response of the viewers. There is a dread of Shakespeare at school. I think that if that dread was not present, students would even learn to enjoy Shakespeare. If taught well, of course.

Back to Romeo and Juliet; it took a while for it's audience to get over the long lines and odd composition of the movie, in general. It is hard to follow, at first. They were appalled at how quickly everyone drew their guns, and one student asked confusedly "Why are all the words weird?" It took her a while to understand the meaning of a modern adaptation. And then there was the question of "why do they keep talking to themselves? Can't they hear each other?" Welcome to Shakespeare, middle-schoolers.

Most of all though, they laughed.

How They Laughed

At tears, at laughter, at romance, and cruelty.

With anxiety, with embarrassment, with pure joy.

And though they laughed, as Romeo uncapped his poison and brought it to his lips, the entire room broke out with shocked and breathless 'oh my god's, and "No! Don't do it!" Even though we all knew he was.

 

The "popular" group in middle schools are often portrayed as being a gaggle of rich/snotty girls and football jocks. At my school, that isn't the case at all.

There are only a few girls who are full of themselves and exclusive, but it is common knowledge that that is just the way they are. They wander around the cafeteria at lunch, spreading news and lamenting lost boyfriends (it seems as if there are always lost boyfriends), social studies homework...there is always something to complain about. Some at your table will look up and say "Oh, boy. Here comes___." Then ___will slide onto one of the plastic seats and, eyes shining and cheeks flushed, start relaying.

The boys, on the other hand, are anything but football jocks. The boys tend to be athletic, easy-going, and very adept at sexual innuendos. 

And yet, here I get to the phenomenon; there are so many people who are in the inner circles of middle school society who don't fit the norm. Some are extremely immature, others have a strange sense of humor, and others, still, are just quirky.

So, why are these kids in the inner circles? It has to do with the way the school system is set up. There are several elementary schools that feed into my middle school. Depending on where the school is, it's going to have different demographic percentages. In each middle school, groups are already distinguished, and kids are determined as insiders or outsiders. When these groups transfer to middle school, the groups stay fairly intact. They may grow larger, shrink, or merge with other groups, but the kids who are determined as insiders stay in, and those who are outsiders stay out.

I come from an elementary school with only a few kids who are in honors classes- the students in my classes. The few of us who are spent most of 6th grade floating from group to group. Some of my friends have found anchors in one group or another. I'm still looking. My closest friends at school are all in different friend groups, and don't necessarily hang out with each other.

You Would be an Insider if...

• You have a sense of humor that is open-minded and an easy-going laugh

Humor is the largest determinant of insiderdom vs. outsiderdom. Even if you are bossy, you're sense of humor could save you. Middle-schoolers love to laugh. At everyone, everything, every detail. Jokes are half of a middle-schooler's conversation.

The Most Often Remembered Part of Middle School

Health

We are back to the health room for diagrams of reproductive organs and lectures on the importance of self-esteem. My teacher talks as little as possible. Mostly, we watch videos. All of the videos are from a series called Degrassi Junior High. Actually, there quite good. And they're Canadian, so they're even better. And they're twenty years old. 

 

For some reason, many people envision health rooms as being full of shy kids who are afraid to speak up from embarrassment. They have obviously not stepped foot in my health classroom. Several kids are so talkative they have to be suppressed. Also, the Internet has not made teaching any easier. It is so overloaded with information, most of health is correcting information, not teaching it.  

 

Health doesn't stay in the health room. If you walked the halls with a tape recorder, you would pick up many conversations about health subjects. Maybe not with terms like 'self-esteem' or 'abstinence', but the general ideas. Students talk very openly with one another, which is important. However, health class information is also used to insult, make others uncomfortable, or to shout out about in the middle of a test. 

It seems, though, that at least the class makes an impact on it's students, which about as good as it can get, right?

"What if they came in here?"

"Well, we could blockade the door with the desks..."

"Or we could just bust through the window."

"If it happens, of course."

It didn't happen. Despite the rumors and the jokes, yesterday was just another day. Besides from the fact that nine hundred and thirty four students didn't show up to T.C. Williams. Or the fact that yesterday was the anniversary of Columbine.

It all began when a few high school students began spreading rumors that they were going to recreate Columbine at T.C. This led to searches, suspensions, and even more rumors. As you can imagine, students reacted differently. Some students laughed at it, like a joke. Some took it very seriously. So seriously, they didn't come to school.

Of course, what happens at T.C. trickles down into the middle schools. Rumors flew there, too. Kids began discussing what would happen if a shooter really did come into the school (completely forgetting that, even if there was an actual plot, T.C. was the only target). They joked about it and added gory details and then stopped abruptly with an expression of "What if this really did happen? In fact, it has happened. What if?"

The school sent out talking points to all of the teachers so that they could talk to their students. That meant that anyone who hadn't known before, now knew.

Nine hundred and thirty four students stayed home from T.C. Williams yesterday.

It was just another day.

How I Feel on Picture Day
Like a puppet.

Over here, sweetie! Now, just tilt your head a little too the right- too far! Just drop your hands. Relax, okay? Smile! The boys picked at the collared shirts their mothers made them wear, and fret about which pose they will have to stand in. At least the woman who ran it today didn't have a voice intended for two-year-olds.

In language arts, our class had the option to read Anne Frank; The Diary of a Young Girl or Hiroshima by John Hersey. I've already read Anne Frank's diary, so I decided to read Every few days or so, we have literature circles comprised of three or four kids each, and then we debrief to the class. We have just finished reading the fourth chapter of Hiroshima.

Areas of Disbelief

• How could the Japanese be so calm? Why aren't they raging and fighting?
• Their nationalism stretched far beyond 'The Pledge of Allegience'.
  
• Why did America drop the bomb in the first place?
  
• How could we have been so angry?

How could we have been so angry? My generation can not imagine an America in which there was so much hatred against the Japanese. I guess all of those multi-cultural nights and long American-dream speeches have made a difference, after all.

Soccer is about to end in P.E. We began it just as winter turned into spring-a perfect time. Soccer, I must say, is actually distinguishable, unlike most of the other sports we play. Although there are football tackles and the occasional blatant handball, the basic concept of soccer remains fairly intact.

We play on the field behind our school. It's slanted at the corners, so the ball goes out of bounds more than often, and if you even touch the ball you're guaranteed to get tripped or beaten, but sometimes you can smell the bread in the ovens of a bakery up the street, so it's all worth it.

The first thing I did when I got home from school yesterday was open the freezer and roll an ice pack up and down my arms, and around my face. It's been that hot. Of course, that means everyone is wearing skimpy little dresses and tanktops (girls at least; a few boys- somehow- continue to dress like it's winter). Our school has decided to reestablish it's long-forgotten dress code.

A Summary of Our Dress Code
-Skirts and shorts must extend past your fingertips
-Shirts must have sleeves that are at least two fingers wide
-No bandannas

Most of the teachers have completely ignored the most recent campaign, but a few have joined with the vigor of a hungry lion. Yesterday, I was asked to change my shirt because the sleeves were too narrow. I admit it was border-line. But two weeks ago, no one would have said a word.

You may be wondering why our school doesn't allow bandannas. Well, after your first 'gang symbol' lecture from our school officer, you'd be just-plain-scared to wear one. I did, once, make the mistake of wearing one. It was a green one with fact boxes about snakes on it-because I'm part of the Nature Geek Gang. Another loop-hole in our dress code is the fact that there is a limit on how thin your shoulder straps can be, but no (well-known) limit for how low your shirt can dip.

However, considering the dress code is only reinforced a few weeks of the school year, what difference does it make?

Well, it was back to school today. Sun-tanned tweens in short shorts and badly concealed spaghetti-straps spilling with stories of the beach, the friend's house, the unexpected encounters...
Strangely, even after a week of not seeing one another, no says 'How are you?'. No one asks if someone else had a good spring break. If you want to know, you ask 'what did you do'. There was hardly even a 'hello' before the tales of the week came cascading down like a bombarding hummingbird.

The 'popular' friend group clustered around the cafeteria tables in the corner exchanging the latest gossip. I stood a bit apart, my back against the wall, listening in.

My Status At Middle School
An Outsider on the Inside.

I don't really fit in. Not like a puzzle piece, or a secret ingredient. My style is a bit different. I'm a whitewater racer; a sport which no one understands, let alone remembers (you do crew, right? or oh, I went rafting once...). I enjoy theater, but I'm never in the school plays because I like working with adults in community theaters. I don't curse regularly. I sing to myself in the hallways. I know songs from musicals by heart, but I also have K'naan and Taylor Swift on my i-pod.

It isn't as if I don't have friends. Everyone in that corner of the cafeteria knows me, and I know them. We have had a few shared words. A compliment on one another's shoes or essay. There are those that I have discussed the world with. And middle school. There are those that I eat lunch with every day. But there's only a handful of friends who really get me.

They may think they know me. They only know part of me. This makes me sound like I'm a shy, soft-spoken spectator. Anyone will tell you that's not me. I'm actually quite talkative, and not at all afraid of speaking up. I just don't have much to say at school. I smile at jokes, and nod when someone tells me a story. I laugh, too. Perhaps it has to do with the time of the day, perhaps it has to do with the people I'm with, but I don't often get silly at school.

This is not to say I don't have friends. I have many people who I consider friends, and they consider me their friend, too. But I don't have a group of friends who gets together every other Friday for a sleepover, or spend weekends together at each other's summer lodges. But I'm all right with that. Just as long as they get some part of me and I have someone to eat lunch with, I should count myself as lucky.

I'm a puzzle piece for a different puzzle. But somehow, I fit.

In 2000, Remember the Titans made it's debut on the movie screen. It portrays the true story about the integration of T.C. Williams football team. It is T.C. William's biggest claim to fame. T.C. Williams happens to be my future high school and I have heard stories from people who went to school there during that period in time, if not during the initial integration. It was pretty rough. If you walked into my middle school today, you would probably think ACPS (Alexandria City Public Schools) still struggles with racism. Except for, we don't. True, tables at lunch are more-or-less divided by race. True, racial jokes fly with hummingbird-speed wings. But I can explain.

Major Ethnicities at My Middle School

1. African-American

2. Caucasian

3. Hispanic

People of the same ethnicities and economic classes tend to have similar ideas of what is popular, similar interests, similar ways of talking...similar cultures. Naturally, they will group together. That's common knowledge. But the school also naturally divides races. My school has two classes for science, language arts, and social studies: regular and honors. When you sign up for classes, you choose which one you would like to take. (Honors is supposed to move faster and require more critical thinking skills, but the difference between honors and regular varies from teacher to teacher.)
This is where the separations happen.
1. Most of the white students sign up for honors (of course, there are several who don't)
2. Most of the black students don't sign up for honors (though there are many who do)
3. Most of the Hispanics don't sign up for honors (again, there are many exceptions), and many are in ESL (English as a Second Language)
It is important to state that there are many, many, many exceptions. However, this is the basic idea.

As for insults, it doesn't take a long time to realize that they're not said in hatred. There are certainly people who take them seriously, and everyone should. Is it not worrying that, by the age of eleven or twelve, kids know enough stereotypes to insult one another with them? Is it not worrying that stereotypes are so played up in our society as a whole? Of course it is. Unfortunately, if you take the insults seriously, you will feel hurt.

It is a little ironic that, even though everyone knows these stereotypes, they are not common occurrences at our middle school. We don't have the preppy white kids who wear knee socks and are clueless to other cultures. We have just as many Hispanics and whites who wear chains and low pants as we do blacks. We have our own version of these stereotypes. We do have kids who are preppy, but they aren't clueless, and they aren't always white.

Basically, appearances can be misleading. It is extremely hard to keep every lunch table diverse, just as it is hard to keep stereotypes out of society. Overall, my middle school is pretty decent in that regard.

But I'm on Spring Break now, so I don't have to deal with all that.

Middle Schools are not as cliquey as young adult fiction make it out to be. Or at least my middle school isn't. It is true that my middle school has groups, but those groups tend to mesh and are not extremely excluding. That is not to say we don't have outcasts. We do. They are the ones that fit into the typical middle school scenario.

Young adult fiction often portrays middle schools as a war ground of cliques, where one select group reigns and makes every one else feel miserable. I think that is a bit extreme. There are, of course, personality clashes, and groups of friends who don't get along with other groups of friends. But there isn't an organized battle ground, and no one clearly defines which side of a battle they are on.

Of course, other middle schools may be more cliquey. I think mine is spared because it is quite large (485 students over three grades), and is fairly diverse. (We have three major ethnicity groups; blacks, hispanics, and whites). Each ethnic culture has different status symbols, so there isn't one "popular" group. There is more of a "popular" gaggle, with multiple add-ons.

Insulting is an art. Middle Schools hold experts.

The Worst Type of Insult

A Compliment.

A compliment, when delivered earnestly, leaves the prey absolutely unguarded. It is hard to react to. You could say 'thank you', but you run the risk of having the taunter think you believed his compliment. You could say something back, but, most often, the kids who get teased aren't the ones who talk back. If they do, it seems flustered, and you don't want to seem bothered. Most kids just stand, looking lost and defeated.

Since kindergarten, I and my classmates have been told how to solve a conflict using a step-by-step process. First, you take a breath and count to ten. Then, you calmly state your feelings (I feel mad that you broke my crayon, I felt sad when you insulted me, ect.). You resolve the argument by deciding what each person could do to prevent the conflict from happening again.

I have never been told what to do if the person I am confronting does not listen. I have never been told what to do if the person I am confronting laughs in my face.

My Self-taught Conflict Solution

Avoid the Conflict.

Don't spend emotion on anyone but friends; they're the only ones who will listen. Everyone else; tell them to go away and get on with your life.

A Description of Middle School Volleyball

It does not look like volleyball.

Volleyball is a foreign sport. Arms are swung out like baseball bats and balls are slam-dunked over the net. There is even the occasional soccer kick. Only the core group of volleyball girls really know how to play. And even then, it is a rare occasion when they get to touch the ball. When someone fails to hit the ball over the net, everyone choruses there name in unison (generally followed by insults). It is quite strange- most of the chorusers are the slam-dunkers.

Annotation
n.
1. A critical or explanatory note

Of course, my opinion will also sneak it's way in. Everyone's always does. This time, I am not analyzing a text...I am analyzing middle school. Not just my middle school, but the image middle school holds in American society. As a middle schooler, I have the perfect opportunity to observe and ponder middle school.