Students, Schools, and the Battle to Restore Childhood

As I head out to the parking lot after a long day of teaching, I can see one of the 8th graders (with whom I have little to no contact) waiting for her friends against the side wall of the Middle School. Her book bag is on the ground at her feet, but the fact that she is standing in front of the school is the only clue that she may be a student. Even though she is only an 8th grader, probably about 14 years old, she could easily pass for someone my age. At first glance she could be mistaken for a 30-year-old woman.

Why? Because she is wearing plaid short-shorts, a tight V-neck shirt that shows much more cleavage than is necessary for a school day, and she is busy reapplying her mascara while she waits. Her designer purse is clutched under one arm, packed full of expensive cosmetics, her cell phone, and her IPod. Is it any wonder that she is the most popular girl in her grade?

The frightening part is that chances are this little girl knows more about sex than any adult in the Middle School. She could probably give me a lesson or two on drugs, sneaking out, and lying to parents. Of course we all know that there have been kids throughout the ages who were misfits; the bad kids who drank their first beer at the age of 12 and were smoking cigarettes by 6th grade, but it seems now that the majority of today's kids are growing up long before they really need to. When I was in middle school I was still playing with Barbies and Cabbage Patch Kids. Boys repulsed me up until the 8th grade when I had my first boyfriend. We cemented our relationship by holding hands during couples skate at the roller rink. When I came home from school, my mother was there to greet me, ask me how my day was, and push me to do my homework. My parents worked hard to make sure we sat down for dinner as a family every night, and they gave me the opportunity to try most anything I wanted be it sports, art, or music. Today, most of my students shuttle back and forth between parents. They stress about finding ways to get along with dad's new girlfriend, or mom's new husband and his kids from another marriage. Some of my students are at school until 5:00 when their single mothers are able to pick them up. Others are home alone, experimenting with drugs, alcohol, and sex. The emphasis is no longer on academics because these children are spending more time trying to find their way in life than they are studying to become a success in society.

As a teacher, I see my fears reaffirmed every time I realize that there are 6th graders who can't read independently. An overwhelming number of students are being put in special ed for reading issues or attentional problems, but the primary issue is the fact that learning is not a priority. For the 8th grader, her priority is looking as attractive as possible and holding onto her popularity. She is the queen of the girls, and the most desired by the boys. That is her priority. For one of my 6th graders, she too is striving for popularity. The only reason she can spell the word "awesome" is because it's part of one of the cheers she has learned in cheerleading. She knows the words to all the hottest songs on her IPod Touch, but she can't write a complete sentence. None of that matters though if you have a boy to kiss in front of your locker, or the other girls tell you they like your mini-skirt.

I strive to set an example for my students, and I try my best to emphasize individuality. It's difficult though to impress upon my students that part of individuality is recognizing what your priorities should be. Sex, parties, and the opposite sex just shouldn't be on the list in Middle School. These students should not be focused on social drama and attracting a mate, but it seems almost impossible to convince them of this when you see pictures taped into their locker of the star of the moment wearing less than nothing and promoting a culture of 14-year-old sex symbols. And how uncomfortable is it for me to run into another one of those 8th graders wearing a shirt that prompts me to say to her, "Hey, I have that shirt!" Why on earth is a 14-year-old dressing like a 30-year-old? Is there anyone out there who can help alleviate my frustration with these tiny adult-like creatures that I'm supposed to help mold and shape? Until someone can provide me with the answer, I will continue to sigh and shake my head every time I see that 8th grader standing outside, looking like a child playing dress up.