The DJs on the morning radio show mentioned their daughter is finishing 5th grade and moving on to middle school. They asked the question, “What 3 words of advice would you give to a graduate?” I looked forward to the answers, since my older son J is also finishing elementary school this week. As I listened to the advice (ex. “Just keep learning”), I thought about what my three words would be.
Don’t be mean.
My family moved from Maryland to North Carolina before I started 6th grade. I do have some positive memories, but the first thing that comes to mind is how I did not fit in. Middle school years can be difficult for so many reasons. We were dealing with puberty, new academic expectations, and additional responsibilities.
I quickly learned that anything that made you different made you a target. I was the new kid and I was the youngest in the class. On the first day, someone asked me, “Y’all pull for Carolina or State?” I was too new to the state to understand the significance of the UNC – NC State rivalry and gave the worst possible answer by picking my brother’s school – Wake Forest. I showed my ignorance of North Carolina life by not making a proper choice and was cut out by the major school cliques for my faux pas.
On the bright side, I did not make a similar mistake when I was asked the next two key North Carolina questions and gave good answers.
- Which is better, Eastern NC barbeque or Western NC barbeque? I correctly chose Eastern (vinegar-based) vs. Western (tomato-based). And I got bonus points for knowing the difference between the two without asking.
- Who do you cheer for in the UNC-Duke basketball game? Fortunately, I’m a huge sports fan, so there was no way I’d make the egregious error by saying “I don’t care”. I quickly said UNC since it had been one of the two correct answers for my previous rivalry question, so I thought it was safe.
My husband also dealt with being different. I love his auburn hair, but unfortunately for him, his hair was bright red when he was a kid. Since he couldn’t hide his difference, he was an easy target. We kindred spirits commiserated with each other while we were dating.
My son has not had social issues so far. He easily finds friends, and his friends are good kids. He sees race as just another thing that makes people different, like hair color and eye color. He’s comfortable working with boys or girls on school assignments. He can strike up a conversation with a 90-year-old friend of the family as easily as he can with a peer.
My son is also a caring, compassionate boy. He proudly takes responsibility for getting my rollator in and out of the trunk. We watched a DVD last night, and he curled up next to me and held my hand. He’s quick to hug and is his little brother’s champion. The Sparks boys are best friends and worst enemies, but watch out if you cross one of them – you’ll have to deal with both of them.
So he’s got the good foundation, but since he’s nearly 12 years old, I know things will change. The eye rolling and back talking has already started, and I know it will only get more frequent as he grows up. I’m expecting the hugs to decrease. He’s going to realize I’m not the smartest, most amazing woman in the world. I’ll be hearing Mommy and Mama less often, replacing with an exasperated Mom (usually drawn out to emphasize his disdain).
I have jokingly (kind of) blackmailed him about what would happen if he started to be mean to his parents. I’ve told him that as long as he’s good to us, we will go out of our way to avoid embarrassing him among his schoolmates. But if he cops an attitude and treats us disrespectfully, all bets are off. I will drop him off at school yelling things like, “Mommy wuvs her widdle boy!” or “Hope you learn a lot today, my precious gift from above!” And if things get worse, I will make sure that folks are exposed to a picture of a young J screaming his lungs out on Santa’s lap.
I just hope that he stays kind to his classmates, and that his classmates are kind to him. He hasn’t had his growth spurt yet and is concerned about being one of the shortest in his class. He’s not going to the same middle school as his friends, but his new school makes a concerted effort to help students build good relationships with their peers and their teachers. I’m hoping that those factors will prevent him having the mean kid encounters his dad and I had.
After all, he’s still my baby.
