My sons have been in sixth grade for over two months. They left a small, private Jewish elementary school to attend a slightly larger public middle school located in eastern Hillsborough County, nestled between three churches and five liquor stores. Add to this culture shock the fact that we moved from Lutz to South Tampa for them to attend this particular facility. To say we’ve endured some transition issues would the understatement of the year.
But here we are in October and thrilled with most everything so far, even with experiences that aren’t necessarily thrilling. If I’ve learned anything, it’s this - when 11 year-olds experience a change in their world view, parents need to pay attention and keep up.
Oh, and wine helps.
There are many differences between a rather innocent childhood spent in a nurturing environment and the perfect storm of preteen angst and hormonal differences in a population that is starting to require deodorant.
Then: My kids attended school with children who responded to frustration in two ways: they either threatened to curse or threatened to sue. Most of the time, they called Daddy. Now: My kids attend school with young adults who learned to say, “Fuck you, mom” in pre-school. And why sue when you can kick some ass instead?
Then: My boys simply dropped their belongings in the hallway when they had recess. In plain view were books, money, electronics, and stock options. Nothing was ever stolen, although risky investors were mocked and belittled. Now: My kids have been introduced to the idea that lockers need locks. And shit still winds up missing.
Then: My kids got picked for every sports team. Most people credit their Irish heritage, but my relatives can’t bend over and touch their toes without putting an eye out. No, my sons’ athletic tendencies are the result of Husband’s Ashkenazi/Ancient Hebrew genetics. Think: Moses. Last year, this easily gave our kids the advantage over schoolmates who followed more in the Woody Allen tradition of Judaism. Now: Schoolmates are so over-the-top skillful they make my kids’ Ashkenazi heritage look, well, Ashkenazi-like. I’m worried that the only way to get Oldest and Youngest on a team is to talk to their Coach. “I’m working on a column about why you hate Jews. How do you spell your last name?”
Then: My boys flirted with girls who wanted summer homes on the beach and good earning potential in a mate. Now: Girls want guitar players who can lick their own eyebrows.