Thursday, April 4, 2013

Writer's Workshop: { Seventh Grade Bookends }

 
Boarding the yellow school bus, the last stop on the route, was hell.

There were a lot of us waiting to climb aboard.  There were never enough seats left.  One child made the less-than-brilliant move to mark my li'l brother's neck with ballpoint pen.  It was the '80s and I'd bet my favorite Bic pens were the culprit - I preferred blue, but that day black was used.

That bus.  That bus stop.  Those kids.  I couldn't stand it.

I needed another method of transportation to the seventh grade.  Definitely.

Feet.  They worked.  Often.

On the days I needed to go faster, a bicycle worked.  Black and white ten speed.  Pedals turning.  Chain cycling.  Wheels rotating.  Faster.

Two get-myself-to-school memories are etched into the ol' brain.  Perfectly placed bookends.

Fall.  And then falling.  Autumn coats the air.  Pumping the pedals to climb the last hill to campus.  Two nameless boys in front as I miss the rhythm, pulling a right leg too early to hop off.  Landing hard.

"Eat dirt?!!"

Grumbling internally.  Some unknown, surely less than witty remark to hide the embarrassment, tossed their way.  Rising up to walk the bike the remaining distance.  A big, huge hole at the knee of the only pair of jeans - any pants at all - owned.

I wore skirts the rest of the seventh grade.

By spring, a friend from the same neighborhood, was joining me on the avoid-the-yellow-school-bus trek.

The oh-my-goodness-what-am-I-going-to-tell-my-mom about this or that talk that went on as we walked home caused giggles to erupt.  But, it's The Pole memory that is the solid bookend to the get-myself-to-school memories.

Once a week, the school newspaper - a two sided ditto - came out.  We took turns reading it to each other, whether we were on bike or foot.

Coming out of the wooded patch, onto the steep hill, we climbed.  Once at the top, the street leveled out.  Then it was much easier to dive into the school news.

She read to me, completely captured by whatever tale that courier font regaled.  Listening intently, I no more saw what was in front of her than she did.

A pole.  A light pole?  I don't know what exactly it was in the moment.  But, she walked right into, school newspaper in hand.

SMACK.

From that day on, it was her pole.

Every school day after, she would give her pole a li'l hug as we passed by it, on our way home.

And on the last day of school, we even stopped to photograph her with it.

I'd share it with you, but then I'm sure she'd have to kill me.  And I'm not ready to do dead.

So, that particular seventh grade memory bookend will stay right where it is.

But, I remember both experiences vividly - acid wash jeans destined to become cutoffs after I crashed and burned in front of those boys for me and navy blue shorts, navy blue & white stripped tee for her and her pole.

I. Loved. Seventh. Grade.

You know how I'm sure?

My memory banks are bursting from that particular year.  Thank goodness.


 
Ran with Mama Kat's first prompt: a seventh grade memory.  I had oodles to choose from for that particular year.  So, to keep indecisiveness at bay, I ran with the bookends!
 
What do you remember from your seventh grade year?
 

18 comments:

  1. Love the stories! It sucks that your only pair of pants were ruined. And your friend crashing into the pole cracked me up because I've done that so many times myself… except in my case, it also included trees.

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    1. I still remember the kids who signed my yearbook that year, "Get some pants, girl!" lol

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  2. Yuck, did not like 7th grade: boring classes, hated home ec--(sewing), don't remember too much about it.

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    1. I never took home ec, but the kids who did always had funny stories from that class. I was in marching band instead.

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  3. 7th grade was filled with awkwardness and tortured taunting. I'm pretty sure there is a ring of hell waiting for me to relive this horrible experience.

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    1. Oh no! High school was filled with those years for me. But, seventh grade was a blast. :>

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  4. 7th grade really is the worse. You're going through too many changes for it to be fun! I've had a friend walk into a pole before and while you are concerned that they did not hurt themselves you are simultaneously laughing your butt off!

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    1. Yes, there was Lots of laughter following that accidental run in! :>

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  5. Loved the stories - I hated 7th grade but then I didn't try to change anything like you did, just kept walking in the same path. ugh.

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    1. I never thought of it that way, thanks! :>

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  6. " Once a week, the school newspaper - a two sided ditto - came out. We took turns reading it to each other, whether we were on bike or foot." Wow. I had forgotten about the school newspaper. That was huge. What a great memory and loved the way you wrote it.

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    1. There are several years where the memories blur together, filled with vague images and emotions. But, seventh grade has quite a few crisp, vivid images & movies that I can easily replay in my head. :>

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  7. Here's why I didn't do that prompt: barely any memories from 7th grade! Which is weird -- it stands out in a generic way but no specific incidents. Except maybe the algebra teacher talking to my parents about how I read too much (ahem.....). Great post!

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    1. I have those years too, but they are from other years. Seventh grade is a stand out for me. And there's nothing ever wrong with reading too much...except, I suppose in math class. I doodled too much in my geometry class! (Which explains why I have a harder time correcting my son's homework when they're on that section!)

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  8. That walk everyday with a good friend? Sounds amazing! Light pole and all.

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    1. Good friends can make a bad day better and a good day, great! Loved capping those school days with her. :>

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