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My Middle School Misery – From a New Perspective!

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I know that my puny experiences are nothing compared to the great saints of the faith, but to help you understand the process of looking back with the perspective of truth and grace, I would like to share with you an example from my own life thirty years ago. 

San Carlos, California.  April 1977.  I had just announced that our family was moving to Baltimore.  A red headed chick named Kathleen burst out, “Yay!  Now we won’t have to pick her for our teams in gym class anymore!”  I’ve laughed about that many times since then, but oh, there was also still a chronic sting from the constant and cruel peer rejection that I suffered for so many years.  I’m sure many of you can relate.   Middle school kids can still be vicious.   Maybe this happened to you.  Maybe you treated other kids like that.  Or maybe you have seen peer problems affect your own children.  I know many families who have sent their kids to public school until the start of middle school – and then pulled them out!  Middle school misery is real. 

Well, I was one of those middle school outcasts.  I dressed and acted weirdly.  I talked too much (and still do).  I played chess at lunch time in the school library with the other outcast nerds, or we hung out at the nerd bench in the playground.   I had one dear Christian friend named Donna.  We were, to put it plainly, social rejects -- and it hurt!  So where is the grace and truth in that?  Where is the grace in “Yay!  She’s out of here and good riddance!” 

As I reflected on this recently, the amazing truth suddenly dawned on me: How kind the Lord was to rescue me up out of that place and give me a fresh start!   In his sweet sovereignty, he moved me, a newly-saved but unchurched young teen, all the way across the country to Baltimore to plant me in a nurturing congregation where folks loved me and discipled me – and didn’t care whether I could play sports or not!   A sweet girl named Anne, who sat next to me in chorus class in my new school, invited me to church, and her parents faithfully drove out of their way two or three times a week to come pick me up.   I had the opportunity to speak with Anne and her mother a few months ago and profusely thank them for their kindness which totally transformed my life.  By the time I moved to northern Virginia a mere two years later, I had a whole bunch of great Christian friends, and I could hold my own much better among my peers at school.   Most importantly, I now had a solid foundation in Scripture, prayer, and missions.

I also see how kind God was to birth klutzy little me into a hyper-creative family that skipped sports, dumped the TV for six years, and put heavy emphasis on books, writing, art, drama,  music, and gardening.   Thanks, Dad and Mom!  Those creative pursuits all still serve me well as a home school mom.   (Yes, I still need the exercise that sports could have given me, despite all of the joint injuries I endured in those pesky gym classes!  That’s another truth I have to face, like it or not!   And we are trying to help our kids venture into the world of healthy exercise and good sportsmanship.  You will find most of them on the soccer field Saturday mornings at Metro Life Church.  My husband Thad and my 18 year old daughter Julia are coaches, and five of our other children are players.  This soccer program emphasizes teamwork and fun rather than athletic prowess, but of course we still deal with the “unfair” stuff that kids naturally feel.) 

Another benefit I received from my own childhood experience is an increased sensitivity to the 20 middle school students in the co-op English class that I teach.   Each week, using literature, writing, logical thinking skills, and other language arts topics, I seek to give them solid life lessons to chew on.   We recently finished studying Mildred Taylor’s novel Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry about racism in Mississippi in the 1930s.  Many of the other parents have told me how much they appreciate getting to address this issue; having suffered even a comparatively mild case of peer injustice, I personally think it is vital in learning to treat others with dignity.  We have also just started a literature unit with a missions theme, and kicked it off by playing a CD with music by Keith Green, who died 25 years ago in a plane crash.  Last fall, we read Longfellow’s poem “The Village Blacksmith”, which I have included in this newsletter.  I want to fortify these precious students for the trials they will face in life, to help them discern truth and grace, and to motivate them to “speak the truth in love” to the people around them.   I know this sounds somber, but we laugh a lot in class.  A merry heart is good medicine!   My daughter Lydia, who is 12, is writing an essay for class on why children should read classic literature.  I'll try to send it out soon, when she is done with it.  She's turning it into a very creative PowerPoint presentation, too, since all of the students are presenting speeches based on their persuasive essays.  This should be very interesting.  Lydia has really blessed my heart recently with her prayers and Biblical encouragement.  I can see how the Lord is using some challenging times to teach us all, and I'm glad she is so open to learn vital lessons at this age.   

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I can now see how the Lord has redeemed my middle school misery for his glory.  Instead of rejection, I now see his Tender Loving Care.   I hope this simple vignette has been helpful to you and your children in some way! 

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As a side note, when my family moved to northern Virginia in 1979, I started attending the Saturday Night Alive worship services hosted by a local church.  Pastor Benny Phillips had immeasurable impact on me and my relationship with my parents, so I was delighted to find out several years ago that he had moved here to the Orlando area to join the staff at Metro Life Church, where we now attend. Benny and Sheree Phillips are the seasoned home school parents of seven young adults and teens, as well as grandparents of six little ones.   I’m especially glad that now they get to influence my own children – and Thad and me as parents!   Benny recently preached two sermons on Biblical parenting entitled “Developing a Spiritual Passion.”   I know these will be so helpful to some of you.  You can listen to them on-line and view the notes by clicking here www.metrolife.org/html/messages.html and selecting the dates 3/18/07 and 3/25/07.   Do listen and be blessed!

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The Village Blacksmith

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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This poem is one that every child should read.  Not only does it provide a glimpse of early American times, but it also speaks of how our character is forged on the anvil of life.   Your children will face adversity – why not prepare them well for it through the literature that you choose in your home school?

The Village Blacksmith

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Under a spreading chestnut-tree

The village smithy stands;

The smith, a mighty man is he,

With large and sinewy hands;

And the muscles of his brawny arms

Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,

His face is like the tan;

His brow is wet with honest sweat,

He earns whate'er he can,

And looks the whole world in the face,

For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,

You can hear his bellows blow;

You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,

With measured beat and slow,

Like a sexton ringing the village bell,

When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school

Look in at the open door;

They love to see the flaming forge,

And hear the bellows roar,

And catch the burning sparks that fly

Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,

And sits among his boys;

He hears the parson pray and preach,

He hears his daughter's voice,

Singing in the village choir,

And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,

Singing in Paradise!

He needs must think of her once more,

How in the grave she lies;

And with his haul, rough hand he wipes

A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing,

Onward through life he goes;

Each morning sees some task begin,

Each evening sees it close

Something attempted, something done,

Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,

For the lesson thou hast taught!

Thus at the flaming forge of life

Our fortunes must be wrought;

Thus on its sounding anvil shaped

Each burning deed and thought.