The Final Countdown

Less than two weeks to go--can it be true? I am skeptical. Someone pinch me.

I love my eighth graders--all thirty-six of them. True, some are a bit much sometimes (but that comes with the territory of being a "top of the totem pole" in middle school). In particular, there is this group of sugary-sweet girls that absolutely adore me. This, of course, has done wonders for my self-esteem. I admit I feel a little bit worried when my students can influence my sense of self-worth, but when you're at the bottom of your psychological barrel, you take what you can it without too much afterthought. Anyway, this group of girls bakes me cakes, hangs out with me in my room at lunch time, and invites me to get frozen yogurt with them after school. To see them grow and mature academically, interpersonally, and spiritually warms even the iciest parts of my heart. Now, looking back over the course of the year, they have come leaps and bounds in the women that God is calling them to be.

Then, there's this other group of guys. There are the "cool" guys at school. Genuine Northern California hoodlums, I guess you could call them. They are ultra mischievous and rough around the edges. I can't tell you how many times I heard them loudly dropping figurative bombs on the basketball court, and I had to do something about it (much contributing to their teenage angst). Or the situations where I heard them discussing drugs, sex, and experimentation with such things (unfortunately already in 8th grade), which prompted a larger discussion with me and others after school. These boys want to hate me. They want me to be a heavy-handed authority figure that they can verbally bash. It's in their 8th grade cool, tough kid mentality to hate strict teachers. But here's the thing--they don't. They can't. I know that these boys adore me just as much as the sugar-and-spice girls, but they have a different way of showing it because they are anything but effusive about emotions. I can't comment too much on the maturing they've done this year because it's hard to unlock an 8th grade boy's heart. However, there is something endearing about these boys. I pray for them daily.

Then, there's a nerdy-but-in-a-good-way one. One of my favorite students (I say "favorite" because had he and I been the same age, I'm pretty sure we would be best friends. I'm contemplating telling him so at graduation in couple weeks). He reads J.D. Salinger, watches 30 Rock, and listens to Phoenix. He has a goofy, understated, and witty sense of humor. This kid is a hipster on training wheels. He wears ironic t-shirts and rides his longboard to school. He titled his poetry anthology project: "Water and Water-Related Poems." He's comfortable in his skin sort-of. I mean, he is still in middle school for goodness sake, but he has grown in remarkable confidence this past year. He brings me so much joy (along with his little nerdy crowd--a big group of 8th grade boys). He asks me questions like: "Ms. Zwart, have you ever read Lord of the Flies?" and "Ms. Zwart, if a rabid dog was chasing you and you had a quiver of arrows on your back, would you make the right decision?" (If you knew this kid, you would have peed your pants at this point.) In my classroom, I have something called "The Idea Box"--simply, you have an idea, put in the box, and we read them once a week. This student, I swear, would put in 3 ideas a week. Some are remarkably brilliant, all of them are hilarious. I've held onto most of them. I will miss him incredibly, but cannot wait to see where life brings him.

I say all this because I have really begun to relish these final weeks. Despite all the heartache, frustration, and bitterness I've had this year, I have nothing but a grateful heart for getting to work with my eighth grade students. Seeing them develop and make marked progress has been something I treasure. Some people say you need to wait a few years to understand how rewarding teaching can be. I guess I'm just blessed to experience a little bit of that already.