Eye-Rolling, Gum-Snapping, Know-It-All Kids—And Why I Love Them

Middle school teachers should get hazard pay, someone told me once. And I knew what he meant. Middle schoolers have a way of taking you to the edge.

They walk into class asking if we are doing anything today, drop backpacks in aisles, tap pencils incessantly, and forget to wear deodorant. They talk when they shouldn’t and fall silent when asked to speak. And after you give crystal-clear directions in middle school speak, they ask, “Now what are we supposed to do?”

They’ve got what educators call adolescent egocentrism, meaning their world is small and they’re in its center. They tend to believe they’re the focus of everyone’s attention—that they’re being spoken of in every room and that one social mishap could ruin their lives forever.

One day they show manners, asking how you’re doing and lending pencils to classmates. The next day, they sulk and throw tantrums with the skill of a toddler. They’re young enough to clip Critter Plush Animals to their binders and old enough to carry guns. And you never know which version will walk through your door.

One thing for sure, middle schoolers never bore you.

This is because good middle school teachers always do two things at once. First, they use empathy to see students as they see themselves. And more, they use insight to see adolescents as they cannot see themselves. Good teachers use this empathy and insight to pull back the curtain so kids can see the beginnings of what they can become.

Kindergarten teachers may get hugged every day while love from a middle schooler is often hard-won, but when it comes . . .finally . . ., it makes up for living on the edge.

One Friday afternoon, three middle school girls came to me with a sealed envelope.

“Wanna send a message to your husband,” Natasha said, her tone as brusque and off-hand as it usually was in class.

“Mr. Swartz,” my husband read aloud when he opened it. “When Mrs. Swartz dies, please invite us to her funeral.”

Apparently for Natasha, writing please was easier than saying it.