Jr High, Treat her Well

Let me start this blog by sharing a favorite read of mine from years gone by....   7 years to be exact.  It meant so much then... and well, 7 years later, I've rewritten my own sentiment....  but this still rings true.  Treat her well World, treat her well.

I Trust You’ll Treat Her Well
By Victor Buono

Dear World:

I bequeath to you today one little girl … in a crispy dress … with two brown eyes … and a happy laugh that ripples all day long … and a flash of light brown hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs. I trust you’ll treat her well.

She’s slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning … and skipping off down the street to her first day of school. And never again will she be completely mine. Prim and proud she’ll wave her young and independent hand this morning and say “Good Bye”… and walk with little lady steps to the schoolhouse.

Now she’ll learn to stand in line … and wait by the alphabet for her name to be called. She’ll learn to tune her ears to the sounds of school-bells … and deadlines … and she’ll learn to giggle … and gossip … and look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little boy across the aisle sticks out his tongue at her. And now she’ll learn to be jealous. And now she’ll learn how it is to feel hurt inside. And now she’ll learn how not to cry.

No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch steps on a summer day and watch an ant scurry across the crack in a sidewalk. Nor will she have time to pop out of bed with the dawn to kiss lilac blossoms in the morning dew. No, now she’ll worry about important things. Like grades … and which dress to wear … and who’s best friend is whose. And the magic of books and learning will replace the magic of her blocks and dolls. And now she’ll find new heroes.

For five full years now I’ve been her sage and Santa Claus and pal and playmate and father and friend. Now she’ll learn to share her worship with her teachers … which is only right. But, no longer will I be the smartest man in the whole world. Today when that school bell rings for the first time … she’ll learn what it means to be a member of a group. With all it’s privileges. And it’s disadvantages too.

She’ll learn in time that proper young ladies do not laugh out loud. Or kiss dogs. Or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms. Or even watch ants scurry across cracks in the summer sidewalk.

Today she’ll learn for the first time that all who smile at her are not her friends. And I’ll stand on the front porch and watch her start out on the long, lonely journey to become a woman.

So, World. I bequeath to you today one little girl … in a crispy dress … with two brown eyes and a happy laugh that ripples all day long … and a flash of light brown hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs.

I trust you’ll treat her well.

 

 

This letter, that I’ve always loved, got me to thinking… because I’ve been thinking a lot and reflecting much about my days in Jr High, and my daughters upcoming transition into Jr High.  I would regard 5^th through most 8^th  grade as the most challenging years of my school career (college excluded because well, college is a different world!). 

 

For a preteen girl so many changes happen.  Your body changes-what the heck?  WHAT THE HECK?  You worry that your size 5 body is too “fat”.  (Don’t worry, if I were only as “fat” now as I was in Jr high!)  Crying over things and when asked your only response is I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M CRYING!  

 

Your friends change- old friends make new friends, new friends are hard to make, yet everyone else has new friends, there are popular kids now, there are not popular kids now, these are the same kids that used to sit by you at lunch every day, there are sporty kids, band kids, kids that don’t do anything kids, smart kids, nice kids, mean kids…  all the same kids that you sat by at lunch or played with at recess are now all these different kids, and your job is to figure out which kid you want to be.  And if you’re lucky you’ll be in several groups, with lots of friends and fit in everywhere, but even when you do, you think you don’t. 

 

The boys that have always been around start to change.  Boys become cute, boys become fun, they are funny.  Then… they are dumb, then one is cute again.  They are also very aloof to most girls and don’t stick with any one girl too long because well, they are still two years behind in their way of thinking.  Basketball and video games are still #1 in their hearts.  They are still BOYS.  And yes, they have now become boys that are cute.  First crushes, first heart breaks. 

 

Your parents change.  They suddenly don’t understand ANYTHING!  Clearly they were NEVER this age.  Clearly they grew up in the dark ages and never had friends or boyfriends, and certainly your parents are NOT COOL.  Oh they are ever so embarrassing.  This is the time when your eyes will roll around without you even realizing it, and your body will lose all control over your ability to stifle your need to sigh and doors become increasingly lightweight so it just seems like your slamming the door to your bedroom after said eye roll and giant sigh, but really it’s just that you’ve gained extra muscle because you will tell your parents oh… I did not MEAN to slam my door.  Your parents will find new creative ways to torture you.  They will take away phones, and gadgets and privileges and make you do chores --  chores that NO OTHER KID EVER has to do.  And if you have a younger sibling your parents will ALWAYS take their side and never make them do ANYTHING.  EVER.  And your parents will think it’s okay to give you reasons like BECAUSE I SAID SO.  What is this house?  Some kind of dictatorship?  You will ask yourself this countless times --how many more years until I move out?  And you will say, I will NEVER make MY kid do this!

 

You will feel awkward.  You will want to fit in, you will want to play with dolls.  You will want your parents to tuck you in, but you will not want them to remind you to clean your room (it is after all THEIR HOUSE and they remind you all the time that it’s your job to keep your room clean in their house!)   You will want to be cool, you will want to be smart.  You will want to win, you will not always.  You will want to be picked first, sometimes your feelings will get hurt.   You will want to stand up for friends, you will be afraid to stand up to some kids.  You will HATE riding the bus, you will hate it when your mom hugs you at school .  You will LOVE school trips, and you will LOVE your extracurricular activities and events.  You will forget homework, or tests, you will remember lunch money when you’re already on the bus you hate riding,  or in the middle of third hour. 

 

Having said all this, I can only think.  My daughter is going to go through all this.  Some of this has already begun.  She has no control over her rolling eyes and brute strength with doors.  She is the only child to ever have chores (seriously NO ONE else has to do chores, certainly not her little brother or her friends) and she’s my little girl.  The same little girl that walked through the same doors 7 years ago with a pink back pack on her back and a timid smile.  Little tiny glasses already smudged with a 5 year old's smudge, in a little dress holding my hand, as she said, are you going to stay in this (BIG) gym for a little bit?  Me smiling  down, yes, of course!  I was, (and would still like to be) part of the Mom-aratzi taking her class picture that day, all 30 smiling scared sweet kindergarten faces.  And one teacher who looked ready to take on the world of 5 year old's.  I was smiling on the outside, but on the inside I was terrified and ready to cry.  I think she was as well.  But now, now she’ll walk through those same doors, and head to an even bigger gym, to wait for a bell to ring, for 7 different teachers, a locker (that I pray doesn’t have a temperamental lock or door, that will open and that she’s tall enough to reach the hooks, shelves and big enough to not get stuffed into), only a few minutes between each class, and a schedule to follow.  I pray that she can find all her classes and that she doesn’t have one class at one end of the school, and her next class in the building across the road, only to go back to the other end of the school all day.  Those are tiring.  I know.  I had a schedule like that…and a locker that may as well been located in the boiler room.  And now as she walks through those doors and down a hall that was much longer 7 years ago, I will still be terrified on the inside.  I mean TERRIFIED.  What will these next few years bring for her?  Will she still have the same great friends that my family has all loved since kindergarten?  Will I start looking that the boys in her class as the evil villains?  Will she love having different teachers and a locker?  Will she make lifelong friendships in Math class or band like I did?  Will she be built up or broken down?  Will she realize it’s okay to not be good at everything, and to find and do things you love.  Will she maintain her awesome grades?  Will they always be as important to her as they have been when she was in elementary school?  

 

So, here’s my letter to the world (or at least Jr High): 

Dear Jr High World,
Today I bequeath to you one 12 year old girl, no longer in glasses, or dresses, who will probably have a ponytail in her hair swinging side to side, in her first day of school outfit (whatever it may be), with her brightest backpack, and still a timid smile (now even prettier after a short stint with round one of braces). 

Treat her well Jr High.  Build her up.  Let her make new friends, and keep old friends.  Let her understand without heartbreak what a true friend is, and how to stick up for your friends.  How to have good friends and how to BE a good friend.  And when and how to turn the other cheek.

 

Jr High, please do not trip her in the hall, or make her late to class.  Please let her figure out when to go to the bathroom during the day, because 8 hours without a trip to the bathroom is a really long time. 

 

Jr High, please teach her that she doesn’t have to do everything, but to find things she loves doing: sports, band, drama, vocal music, clubs, whatever.  Let her figure out what she wants to do, and then let her be the best she can be.  Let her know she’s not going to be the best at everything.  Let her know it’s not always important to win, but how you win, and lose says more about you.  Actions speak louder than words.  And let her know, it’s never wrong to congratulate someone on a job well done, even if they have just beat you.  Let her know that not everyone has been taught this, and not to sink to that level. 

 

Jr High, let her know that it’s great to be a Tiger, and to have pride in her school.  To always represent it at the highest level.

 

Jr High, please teach her how to control her emotions and not let them get the best of her.  Teach her that disappointments will happen, that life isn’t always fair, and teach her that the good guy doesn’t always come out the winner.  But Jr High, please let her have some great and outstanding accomplishments, praise, and joys. 

 

Jr High, please hold her tightly.  Please don’t let the mean ones get her, please don’t let her be a mean one.  Please let her know that she always has a home where she’s loved beyond measure.  That she’s setting an example for a younger brother who adores her.  Please Jr High, hold her tightly.  Let her learn and grow and love and listen.  Please let her become the brilliant young lady I know she’s destined to be.  Please build her up and teach her well.  And even though he isn’t allowed in our schools, let her know she’s God’s child.  And God will be with her wherever she takes him.  Please let her know she’s always my girl, that I will always be there holding her hand, and smiling down at her face, and that yes, sometimes when I look at her, almost eye to eye now, I can still only see that sweet little round face with the smudgy glasses and pray that her spirit will always be as innocent and precious as she was 7 years ago. 
 
Please Jr High, treat her well.  Because she is destined for greatness.  And Please Jr High, please help me let go and let her be that greatness.  For she is  very much her own person.  Please don't let her forget it.