I Am Not A Middleschooler

Well, actually, let me clarify that. I am a Middleschooler, because I am Middleschool age. I’m in the 8th Grade. So I am indeed a Middleschooler. Accept that, you know, I’m not. Allow me to explain.

I am socially awkward, but I love to talk just one-on-one with somebody about stuff (shows/movies and books, mostly). Crowds of loud people–loud noises just in general–bother me. Although I can sleep through my brothers pounding around the house, and I can tune them out–so it’s not too bad. It’s more like unexpected loud noises. I prefer a cup of tea and a book, or a computer. A friend nearby, or somebody who I know well–but I also need my alone time. However because I am Homeschooled, I try to have a decent attitude when I go places that I don’t really want to go, since I don’t really talk to people other than my family everyday. I dislike activities that involve anything other than sitting or standing, especially if it–once again–involves crowds. So far I just sound like a regular nerd/geek, right? Right. But there’s more.

When I walk into a room of Middleschoolers, I’m nervous but excited to be around other kids my age. I rarely get to commune with people in my grade, or around my age just in general. So expecting to be surrounded by people who I can relate to, I go forth. Into a room full of… Middleschoolers. As it turns out, kids my age don’t act like me. Or, actually, it’s the other way around. (I’ve actually got a funny story on that.)

Me: I pretty much explained the basics above, but to give you a bigger idea of myself–I am an MK, or a ‘third-culture kid’. Adults often tell me that I’m very mature for my age, but I usually brush it off as them being nice or just surprised at how quiet I can be.

Real Middleschoolers: Obnoxious, loud, and–frankly, not to be mean–most of them are dumb. On their own, they can be smart. More calm, easier to talk to and just–um–approach, in general. But the moment their friend shows up or they get into a group of people their age, they’re brain goes OUT of the window. The window of a speeding car, where it lands splat on the asphalt. Suddenly everybody is pulling each other’s hair, slapping each other, tackling, hugging, picking on one another. Being really,ย reallyย loud. For instance. Instead of: “Oh, hi Mackenzie!” It’s: “OHHHH HEEEEEY MACKENZIE!”

I went to a three-hour long party for Middleschoolers that my Youth Group had today, and I pretty much walked into a zoo. Or a mental institute. It’s hard to tell, but either will do. There should have been a sign saying: “Please don’t feed the animals teenagers junk food, not only is this unhealthy for them, but it makes them aggressive.” Seriously. If you’re going to invite a Youth Group over to your house, you need bear boxes to store your food in. It’s great to supply snacks, but it does get crazy.

Awkwardly I dog around the other kids. I don’t want to sit all alone and draw/read, because I’m here to talk and have fun, not do the stuff that I do everyday all day. But people my age are impossible to speak reason with. It. Is. Impossible. For instance, this happened tonight.

Middleschoolers: “HEY, LET’S PLAY MAN HUNT.” (Hide-and-go-Seek in the dark.)

Me: “Oh yeah, I like that game!”

Middleschoolers: *A group of them go outside, beginning to rambunctiously sort into teams* “OKAY YOU YOU AND YOU GO WITH YOU AND YOU YOU AND YOU GO WITH HER AND–” *Meanwhile, everybody is still being just as loud but has no idea what team their on*

Me: “What team am I on? Excuse me what–um–what team am I on?” *Turns to the girl next to me* “I don’t know what team I’m on. I might be on yours but I’m not sure.” *She doesn’t know what team she’s on either. But eventually we’re all sorted out–to an extent–and a Middleschool girl, a younger girl and myself are all hunters*

About fifteen minutes later we still haven’t started the game because nobody can keep their hands off of each other. A boy pulls a girls hair, the girl gets into a slap-tackle fight with him, it probably spreads. We finally start the game, but by the time the first round is done I have to go home.

And that my friends is how I am not a Middleschool girl. Unnecessary touching (seriously had a boy run up to me and slap both of my arms before running off. Didn’t even know the kid) , behavior, and so on. The highlight of my night was speaking with an adult for a few minutes about The Matrix. Oh, and beating some people at Mario Kart, which as it turns out, I’m a pro at. But mostly talking about The Matrix with a sane person.

I just… I don’t know… I hit puberty too, but I still have a brain. It’s clouded by hormones a lot of the time, yeah. But while everybody else is choking in the funny smoke, I have a gas-mask.

Gasmask

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3 responses to “I Am Not A Middleschooler

  1. Your identification of yourself as not a middle schooler is awesome. Life is way too important to worry about those kinds of people. Just feel lucky that you’re homeschooled so you don’t have to be with them hours every day ๐Ÿ™‚

    P.S. Please email me, I have an exciting project to talk to you about!

  2. First off – read Daniel’s email. It’s awesome. ๐Ÿ™‚
    Second, I’m much the same. When we go to parties, my Mom’s advice? Act like a 12-year-old. It probably doesn’t help that all I do is read and blog… ๐Ÿ˜‰

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