It was the first Friday of the first week of my first year in the sixth grade. So far, it had been a good week, mainly because I had worn the hottest shoes of the year and immeadiately gained access into all the social circles.
We had just come in from lunch and were about to dive right into our Language Arts lesson when I heard a grumble. And then a rumble. It was coming from the seat up in front of me, where Joseph Bowen, class loser, sat. What made Joseph a loser was his desperation to be liked by everyone. He tried everything to get noticed, including handing out Bic mechanical pencils and Costco cupcakes. He tried telling jokes, but that backfired, because he didnt know whether we were laughing with him or at him. Truth be told, I wasnt sure myself either. So far, like his brown corduroy pants, nothing had worked.
But that first Friday, Joesph did get noticed. Apparently, the school's beef enchilada's did not agree with him and while trying to lift his leg to release some of the gaseous fumes that had built up in his stomach, he let out the most raunchiness shit bomb the school had ever heard. It ran out of his shorts from both the bottom...and the top. The gravity defying shart caused such an uproar that by the end of the day, Joseph Bowen got what he so wanted. Recognition. The incident was forever known as the Bowen Blast and stayed with Joseph throughout his middle school career and well into high school.
I learned two things that day. One, never eat anything served in the school cafeteria unless it comes pre-packaged or cellophane wrapped and two, never ever be the first one to get a nickname...find some other poor sap to get it first. Which was the same advice I gave my younger cousin Katrina early last week, before she started her middle school career. I thought I was helping. I thought I was making a differnce. Instead, I just made more of a mess. When you're in middle school, life is both a popularity contest and pure hell. It's a time when you realize you're not a child, not yet an adult. It's a time when puberty hit's you hard coming full force with an attack of unwanted hair and acne like you wouldnt believe (lucky for me though, I didnt get my first zit until the ninth grade). It's a time when one shouldn't strive to be unique, but rather strive to blend in with the others and hope to God, no one out's you as a fake. Who knew that wasnt the best advice to give to an impressionable kid?
Evidently, history has a funny way of repeating itself. Katrina and two of her friends were accepted by a group of seventh graders, which in teen terms meant instant coolness. And though they werent mean-spirited girls, one of the things they did do was ignore a fellow classmate, who was a real bitch back in the fifth-grade, which I thought was pretty genius. They neglected and rejected her in the hallway and in the classroom, but during a math lesson this past Friday, the girl got recognized the same way Joseph Bowen got recognized.
One call from the school principal and one from my Aunt Sylvia later, I was forced to explain that all my "helpful" advice wasnt really all that helpful. I wasnt supposed to tell the truth about the hellish life of middle school, but rather make it sound as if everyone who walked through the halls stood a chance. But how do you undo what you already did, without coming off as a liar? How do you behave like a parent at 20?
We had just come in from lunch and were about to dive right into our Language Arts lesson when I heard a grumble. And then a rumble. It was coming from the seat up in front of me, where Joseph Bowen, class loser, sat. What made Joseph a loser was his desperation to be liked by everyone. He tried everything to get noticed, including handing out Bic mechanical pencils and Costco cupcakes. He tried telling jokes, but that backfired, because he didnt know whether we were laughing with him or at him. Truth be told, I wasnt sure myself either. So far, like his brown corduroy pants, nothing had worked.
But that first Friday, Joesph did get noticed. Apparently, the school's beef enchilada's did not agree with him and while trying to lift his leg to release some of the gaseous fumes that had built up in his stomach, he let out the most raunchiness shit bomb the school had ever heard. It ran out of his shorts from both the bottom...and the top. The gravity defying shart caused such an uproar that by the end of the day, Joseph Bowen got what he so wanted. Recognition. The incident was forever known as the Bowen Blast and stayed with Joseph throughout his middle school career and well into high school.
I learned two things that day. One, never eat anything served in the school cafeteria unless it comes pre-packaged or cellophane wrapped and two, never ever be the first one to get a nickname...find some other poor sap to get it first. Which was the same advice I gave my younger cousin Katrina early last week, before she started her middle school career. I thought I was helping. I thought I was making a differnce. Instead, I just made more of a mess. When you're in middle school, life is both a popularity contest and pure hell. It's a time when you realize you're not a child, not yet an adult. It's a time when puberty hit's you hard coming full force with an attack of unwanted hair and acne like you wouldnt believe (lucky for me though, I didnt get my first zit until the ninth grade). It's a time when one shouldn't strive to be unique, but rather strive to blend in with the others and hope to God, no one out's you as a fake. Who knew that wasnt the best advice to give to an impressionable kid?
Evidently, history has a funny way of repeating itself. Katrina and two of her friends were accepted by a group of seventh graders, which in teen terms meant instant coolness. And though they werent mean-spirited girls, one of the things they did do was ignore a fellow classmate, who was a real bitch back in the fifth-grade, which I thought was pretty genius. They neglected and rejected her in the hallway and in the classroom, but during a math lesson this past Friday, the girl got recognized the same way Joseph Bowen got recognized.
One call from the school principal and one from my Aunt Sylvia later, I was forced to explain that all my "helpful" advice wasnt really all that helpful. I wasnt supposed to tell the truth about the hellish life of middle school, but rather make it sound as if everyone who walked through the halls stood a chance. But how do you undo what you already did, without coming off as a liar? How do you behave like a parent at 20?
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