7th Graders On Halloween

“7th Graders on Halloween”

Today is Halloween. A Monday. A terrible day for Halloween. I walk into my doctor’s office with a cloud over my head about what his news might bring, and am jolted from my funk when I see Amber, the receptionist, in a Cat in the Hat costume.

“You look amazing!” I say, and she grins her thanks.

Our costume day for my 7th graders was last Friday before Halloween. That’s usually how it goes. Sorry kids. Schools have to do their non-routine things on Fridays so you don’t go crazy and waste a more productive school day like a Monday. Sorry principals. Mondays are never productive either.

Last year I taught 5th grade low readers. The move to 7th grade this year, also with below grade levels readers, has taught me a lot. Here’s a chart trying to explain what happens between the two years where childhood is swallowed by adolescence.

5th: Cheerful

7th: Sullen...Sleep clock changes (feeling awake doesn’t happen till at least 11am)

5th: Energetic

7th: Sleepy...Digestion is so energy sucking, classes after lunch are a wash

5th: Motivated

7th: Apathetic...Self consciousness cuts creativity and esteem

5th: Imaginative

7th: skeptical...Play becomes childish and uncool

5th: Kind

7th: sarcastic...Hormones cause a focus on self

5th: Articulate

7th: mumbly...Monsters attack their lips with a numbing agent at night

Let me tell you something.

It is sad, this “crossing.” 7th grade is not just one bridge to growing up, it’s a DOUBLE bridge. Bridge one is to a legit teenager which stretches till 8th grade, and bridge two is the long one towards young adulthood which spans from 7th grade to college. Not only is crossing safely an issue for 7th graders, but there is terrible rain along the way which they’ve never experienced – storms of hormones affect their mood and they’re not sure why. You watch innocence slip into sarcasm and a self-centeredness that leaves adults out of their line of vision. But who wouldn’t get kind of crazed on a double bridge they’ve never been on before? Who wouldn’t focus on their feet a lot more and want their friends close, because tripping together is better than tripping alone?

*Note: Not all 5th to 7th transitions are drastic. These types of kids make more subtle transitions than the chart above.

“Goof”

The goof in 5th stays a goof but becomes more forward more innuendos if they have a responsive audience.

“Quiet Introvert”

This kind of 5th grader goes inward even more in 7th grade and stops expressing emotions in front of the group. Because of this, they have a habit of hanging back after the bell rings and telling you random facts.

“Distracted”

The distracted 5th grader becomes less of an outward whole class disrupter in 7th but can zone out and doodle, take pens apart, make paper airplanes, and nod to please you but not know what the hell is going on because their now distracted by girls for the first time.

“People Pleasers”

These kids stay this way in 7th and the ways they can find to please get more mature and sincere. They need to be reminded that they are enough without your approval though.

When I saw the receptionist Amber in her Cat in the Hat outfit, she was followed by Jenny and Ariel, nurses who were dressed as Thing 1 and Thing 2. Seeing them, I wished I had on what I wore Friday with the kids: a homemade Jillian Holtzman Ghostbusters get-up that I was pretty proud of. All my pics I took with my students (none of whom dressed up) show their blank faces next to my crazy expression. But that’s okay. I’m a theatre person and I’m used to being the only goof in the room.

I’m taken to waiting room number two. I sit for a few moments on the thin tissue paper that covers the patient bench and feels more like it should be in a delicate Christmas present containing a porcelain knick-knack than protecting my bum. Finally, my doctor walks in and greets me in a Spongbob Square pants shirt.

“Hi Annie!” he says with his usual friendliness and ease.

I stare at his shirt.

“I know. I’m supposed to be the Boy who talks to the Cat in the Hat – but I put this on.”

How do I explain the feeling of seeing my doctor fail at something like wearing the correct themed costume with his staff. There's something mystifying about having a doctor who has precise surgeon hands, but fails and wears Spongebob when he's supposed to match the office Seuss theme. There's also something hypothetically frustrating about it because if he were my colleague I'd be like, “Come on!” But as his patient, in this moment, he seems a bit bemused and defeated and I feel more like his teacher. Which gives me an inner teacher chuckle and, “Oh Dr. Kalan.” I’m laughing at my doctor. And I’m not as nervous about why I’m here.

It’s funny about 7th graders. I want to be the person that helps them make the bridge to adulthood so that they find it fun to dress up together in their adult jobs, even if someone is not within the theme. My mission in 5th grade was to communicate Language Arts content in a clear, creative way. My mission in 7th grade is to communicate being a goof. Because I want the 7ths to be the kind of adults who spread playfulness in a world where there’s a lot of pain. Thank you to my doctor and his staff for doing this. And thank you to 7th grader Michelle, who decided to dress up like a nerd the day after Halloween because my Ghostbuster costume made it okay.