I always find it fascinating to compare other countries memories of school age with Australia. Eleven years old and we’re in primary school. Big fish in a small pond. Highest grade before being dropped into the ocean that is secondary’ school. And learning how to survive being krill for a while ... I remember an English lit teacher around the age of 14 that had a huge impact on me. All billowing skirts and jangling bracelets. Poetry and journaling. And here I was dressing in all black. Listening to long haired rock bands and smoking in the toilets. She gave me a voice, even if only for the 90 mins a week I was in her class.
Oddly for me, the trials by fire didn't come until the transition from middle school to high school in grade 9 (although then around 1965 grades 1 - 8 were called elementary, followed by high school 9 - 12). I guess I was a late bloomer but this is when the full force of puberty/post puberty really hit me. One older male student, probably should have been a junior or senior but probably had been held back, made me and I think a few other freshman his target for humiliation and embarrassment. There are particularly for young males certain involuntary manifestations sometimes that make getting up and walking out of a class difficult without letting everyone else leave first. It was a difficult year.
Thanks Shaina, for honoring my comment. I will never forget those days. I remained socially inept and adopted defenses that I used for quite a while to avoid interaction with my peers. Wasn't until my senior year that, with the encouragement of an interested teacher, I became involved in some extracurricular activities related to theatre arts. Made a huge difference in my outlook.
Geez kids can be cruel (I mean, adults can be worse, but there's a special cruelty in that kind of young bus-bulleying).
Lovely to hear you found your first magical human and how she inspired you 💛
My memories of a similar age are pretty hazy. I do remember those early days of getting the bus to school with my brother (a year older and wiser). That would have been in that transition from primary to secondary school (11-12 years old).
Kids are so strange at that age, like they're performers in a play rather than normal humans. A brother so close in age! Was that nice, having him with you on the bus?
6th grade was the worst, as I recall. There's simply no other phase of life that quite compares. You don't just share the bus rides, lunch rooms and study halls with the 8th grade thugs. It was also my first introduction to the locker room! For some reason I don't recall, we actually had combined ages gym class so we'd have to change clothes with those creeps. Ah memories...It was however also the time when the avid reader awakened in me. Hard to recall a specific person to credit. The English department as a whole, I guess. those short years were my first introduction to writers like Poe, Steinbeck, and Shirley Jackson. I also remember watching the original Roots tv series, in Mrs. Beady's 8th grade social studies class. Thanks for the great post Shaina!
The locker room!!! I hated that all the way through school. Changing out was the worst. It's an incredible time for self discovery. Those are some great authors! The only writers I remember from middle school English were Walt Whitman (I Sing the Body Electric was tantalizing and thoroughly embarrassing, read enthusiastically by my English teacher), and Maya Angelou. Apparently I only remember poetry from those years.
I always find it fascinating to compare other countries memories of school age with Australia. Eleven years old and we’re in primary school. Big fish in a small pond. Highest grade before being dropped into the ocean that is secondary’ school. And learning how to survive being krill for a while ... I remember an English lit teacher around the age of 14 that had a huge impact on me. All billowing skirts and jangling bracelets. Poetry and journaling. And here I was dressing in all black. Listening to long haired rock bands and smoking in the toilets. She gave me a voice, even if only for the 90 mins a week I was in her class.
I adore these teachers. People who can lead you to your passion and pull back the curtain on a different kind of life.
This is beautiful with sadness around the edges. And for some reason it had me thinking of DiCamillo's The Tiger Rising.
https://www.katedicamillo.com/novels/tiger_rising/
I love Kate DiCamillo! Haven't read that one but it's sitting on my book shelf.
Oddly for me, the trials by fire didn't come until the transition from middle school to high school in grade 9 (although then around 1965 grades 1 - 8 were called elementary, followed by high school 9 - 12). I guess I was a late bloomer but this is when the full force of puberty/post puberty really hit me. One older male student, probably should have been a junior or senior but probably had been held back, made me and I think a few other freshman his target for humiliation and embarrassment. There are particularly for young males certain involuntary manifestations sometimes that make getting up and walking out of a class difficult without letting everyone else leave first. It was a difficult year.
Oh Frank, it's all so hard isn't it? As a late bloomer, I feel for you!
Thanks Shaina, for honoring my comment. I will never forget those days. I remained socially inept and adopted defenses that I used for quite a while to avoid interaction with my peers. Wasn't until my senior year that, with the encouragement of an interested teacher, I became involved in some extracurricular activities related to theatre arts. Made a huge difference in my outlook.
Geez kids can be cruel (I mean, adults can be worse, but there's a special cruelty in that kind of young bus-bulleying).
Lovely to hear you found your first magical human and how she inspired you 💛
My memories of a similar age are pretty hazy. I do remember those early days of getting the bus to school with my brother (a year older and wiser). That would have been in that transition from primary to secondary school (11-12 years old).
Kids are so strange at that age, like they're performers in a play rather than normal humans. A brother so close in age! Was that nice, having him with you on the bus?
Yeah, we've always and remain super close. It's been lovely. We had our moments during mid teen years, but yeah, he's my closest friend. 🥰
That's a wonderful thing to have happen in your life.
It really was. I still know her, and she's still magical.
6th grade was the worst, as I recall. There's simply no other phase of life that quite compares. You don't just share the bus rides, lunch rooms and study halls with the 8th grade thugs. It was also my first introduction to the locker room! For some reason I don't recall, we actually had combined ages gym class so we'd have to change clothes with those creeps. Ah memories...It was however also the time when the avid reader awakened in me. Hard to recall a specific person to credit. The English department as a whole, I guess. those short years were my first introduction to writers like Poe, Steinbeck, and Shirley Jackson. I also remember watching the original Roots tv series, in Mrs. Beady's 8th grade social studies class. Thanks for the great post Shaina!
The locker room!!! I hated that all the way through school. Changing out was the worst. It's an incredible time for self discovery. Those are some great authors! The only writers I remember from middle school English were Walt Whitman (I Sing the Body Electric was tantalizing and thoroughly embarrassing, read enthusiastically by my English teacher), and Maya Angelou. Apparently I only remember poetry from those years.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Great, loved it.
Thanks Colin!
When I'm writing, I need a break. It's always great to read your work and others, so thank you.