High Anxiety in Junior High

Life Was Easy, Until...

My elementary school life was peaceful and idyllic, straight out of an American fairytale.

Just about every day, I and the other neighborhood boys had the pleasure of chatting and walking the clean sidewalks of quaint, tree-lined streets for a little over a mile to school (sorry no girls allowed ‘cause they had “cooties” back then!). My K-6 school corralled about 300 rambunctious kids in an expansive, fenced in playground with plenty of fun activities always going on (dodgeball was the best, or worst, depending on what team I was on that day). The teachers were really nice and I found the “academics” to be ridiculously easy. After each generally enjoyable day, I stopped on the way home at the candy store (where I got a bag of goodies for just a penny or two) or the White Castle (where I gulped down in one or two bites their infamous, tiny, 25-cent hamburgers and, if I had a little more change in my pocket, fries for 5 cents more!). When I reached home, I quickly changed clothes to go out to play with the boys, usually football in a barren, grassy lot just down the street, until it got dark and was time for dinner (or my Dad whistled loudly for us to come home immediately!). I hardly did any homework, ever, and spent an hour or so after dinner enjoying my favorite TV shows (McHale’s Navy, Leave it to Beaver, and Dobie Gillis) before heading to bed.

Life was good. Sometimes I had to help Mom care for or babysit my younger brothers and sister. Other than that, everything was easy. By 6th grade, I was riding high, as the top student and President of my class (which thereby made me Student President of the entire school). Little did I know that a rude awakening was awaiting me in 7th grade!

I did expect a few challenges. For one, in 6th grade, I had grown a full foot to 6’ and stood out taller than almost all my classmates (as evidenced by the fact the top of my head was cut off in the class photo!). I was also at that awkward prepubescent age, where I was starting to get acne at an unfortunate time, just when I began to actually care about what girls thought of me. Additionally, I knew my Junior High School was huge, as it combined the student graduates from 6 to 10 other local elementary schools. I was worried about having to meet all these new people, and fitting in. But the process of assimilating into Junior High was a lot more difficult and angst-filled than I thought it would be.

Mom Still Gets to Pick Out My Clothes? UGH!

Every year in elementary school, a few weeks before the start, my Mom would take me, my younger brother and sometimes my sister, out for an entire day of “beat the clock” shopping for everything we needed for the new school year. My Mom (who had grown up as a relatively poor Depression child) was always very smart with her money and, having 5 kids, stretched every dollar and cent she could. Living in a small town, we were limited to only 2 or 3 stores for kid’s clothes. One was sort of high-end, but that’s definitely not where we shopped. Instead, we went to the “Army Navy” Store. It was a huge outlet or surplus store where merchandise was randomly thrown about on long tables because they were either leftovers from a prior season, or mismatched or had slight imperfections. They were all marked down 40-60% off regular prices (and frankly, given the looks of the clothes I could see why!). I hadn’t really noticed or cared about “looks” before, until it came time to “graduate” to 7th grade.

It was embarrassing enough to just be seen shopping there by any potential classmates, but on top of that Mom made me and my brother strip down to our undies right in the middle of the store to try on the clothes (there were no fitting rooms!). My anguish increased as each successive article of clothing my Mom handed me to try on was more hideous! Not only were they old-fashioned, but many of them did not even fit me properly. For years, I was a fairly agreeable child growing up, just doing what Mom said, but I can distinctly remember that year begging and pleading with my Mom not to make me wear these horrible clothes. I recall her commanding response, “You’re going to wear them and like it!”.

Saved By Poppop

Thankfully, my beloved grandfather Sam (whom us grandkids all referred to as “Poppop”) came to my rescue! He lived nearby and, on an almost daily basis, was involved with the early years of all his grandchildren. One day, right after I entered Junior High, he could tell I was depressed and asked me what was wrong. Once he got to the bottom of what was bothering me, he took me to get a few nice outfits. I really loved the things that we picked out, but I still had only a handful of clothes I actually liked, and it quickly became obvious to Mom that I was not wearing the clothes she had bought and instead was wearing the same things every few days over and over again.

My Mom finally asked me what was wrong with the clothes she bought me. This time, she really listened to me and acknowledged how I was feeling. Right away, she graciously took me on another clothing shopping trip where, of course with her final approval, I picked up some other, more “cool” clothes. The monkey was off my chest! But the trauma of starting Junior High was not nearly over!

Bruised Toes

As if finding clothes for me wasn’t difficult enough, it was even more trouble finding shoes. In addition to suddenly being tall, I now jumped to size 12 men’s shoes! While size 12 men’s shoes might not seem like a big deal today, back in the 1960’s they were much more difficult to find. And my problem wasn’t just size. What’s worse is that I could not fit into a regular width shoe (C or D), because my foot was so narrow (A!). So, my only options were to choose a tight size 11 shoe or wear 3 pairs of socks with a larger 12 D shoe and pull the laces tight.

Well, I wound up with the size 11 ones and soon after I began wearing those shoes, my feet began to cramp and I complained to my parents. They asked me to show them what the problem was, so I took my shoes off and, to all our surprise, both my big toes had turned black and blue! My parents then grudgingly took me to a podiatrist, who proceeded to scold my parents about not buying me properly fitting shoes! They felt so guilty that they drove me to the nearest by city (Philadelphia) and, hooray, I finally got some shoes that fit me right.

The Tall, Nerdy Kid Gets Constantly Harassed

Regardless of how I tried to wear the “right” clothes and shoes as I entered Junior High, so I could fit in, I didn’t. There were lots of other “societal” challenges I didn’t expect.

Up until this point in my life, I had been so used to being the #1 student in school. I admit that I was the nerdy teacher’s pet student who did not have to work very hard and I easily got straight A’s (mainly to keep my parents happy!). Junior High school was about to change all that for me because, for the first time, I had real, tough competition. There were easily another 5 to 10 kids who were previously the head of their elementary school classes, too, and most of us attended all the same classes together (what were known as Accelerated Classes, or sometimes just called “X” Classes, I guess the equivalent of Honors or AP classes today).

My easygoing quality of life quickly and massively changed. My walks to school became a hurried and tense task, as I feared hearing that late bell ring before I got to homeroom (and receiving a “tardy” on my report card). I had 5 heavy academic classes (plus electives) each day, with 5 huge, heavy books (along with corresponding notebooks) that I had to carry back and forth to school every day (so I could do my homework and avoid them from being stolen from my locker!). With all this stuff stacked under one arm (no backpacks back in those days!), I had to run to and from school and between classes through crowded hallways and staircases. What a true headache of a juggling act! Worse yet, classes came with a substantial increase in the amount of homework and a greater complexity of subjects. I was finally forced to work hard to compete for grades and “class rank”, which was ignominiously displayed on a corkboard hung in the main hall for everyone to see. What a super stressful time my life had become!

To add to all that, I was going through that awkward pre-teen stage where you’re trying to figure out who you are and how to get people to like you. I was the tall, gawky, skinny, uncoordinated, nerdy kid who was the very last boy to get picked to play on any team during PE (or “gym class”). I was often teased and even bullied, regularly having my lunch and gym clothes stolen and even on occasion being thrown into and locked inside my locker (by the leather-jacketed “juvenile delinquents” who roamed the school hallways like predators, until they reached the age they could “dropout”)!

Then a Funny Thing Happened

All the Junior High boys had to take a national physical fitness test. It included rope climbing, pull-ups, push-ups, and lots of other demanding tasks I was terrible at. But, then came the sit-up exam and I finally gained some respect and recognition. During the sit-up competition, all the other boys reached their limit and stopped. I was the only one still going and my PE teacher, watching with amazement, urged me to keep going. Before I knew it, I had done about 100 sit-ups! It was then that the jocks began to talk to me and I made friends with the captain of the football team who sat near me in my homeroom class each morning, and whom I eventually tutored and helped with his homework. Miraculously (but not coincidentally), I stopped having my lunch and gym clothes stolen and the bullying ceased! Finally, I was able to escape the negative distractions and stay on course to be one of the top-ranked Junior High students (as pre-ordained by my parents!). And, about the same time, I made a new BFF, Fred, and we studied and played together when we had time to. I wasn’t alone in this Junior High mess anymore.

Wondering Where I’m Going with All This?

Well, when I look back, all these school anxieties and challenges I faced now seem trifle and humorous, and they certainly appear pale in comparison to what children today have faced during the pandemic and beyond. These last few years the kids couldn’t walk to school with friends, play in the schoolyard, or enjoy a classroom environment (with their teacher lording over them; I mean, joyfully instructing them). Instead, many kids had to sit isolated at home, in one place, staring for hours at a computer screen in a Zoom session. And a lot of the kids still do, even after the pandemic.

Here is my point. Share with your children or grandchildren what you went through and the wisdom you learned in Junior High. Let them know that each of us has our own life’s path, as children and then adults, each stage with its distinct challenges and obstacles. Just maybe you can help give younger generations more hope of a brighter future by giving them more of your time, listening to their anxieties, and reassuring them that, so far, you’ve survived 100% of your worst days!

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