Genre: Opinion/Argumentation

Let's Panic At LET'S PANIC ABOUT BABIES, Eden Kennedy and I share our hard-won wisdom and tell you exactly what to think and feel and do, whether you're about to have a baby or already did and don't know what to do with it. But look how much happier I am! This was undoubtedly due to my brand-new nephew, who I got to see pretty much every day. He is now 28. I am crazy old. And now...ninth grade. Dorp. Okay. First of all, the clothing. Is that a mock turtleneck? How dare I. Secondly, there is a shadow falling across my face that's giving me a unibrow appearance, which I assure you I did not have. That is a mock unibrow. Still, though, it's not good. Eighth grade was less traumatic than seventh, and ninth was easier still. Tenth and eleventh were socially more exciting, and then things took a steep downturn (in every way) in twelfth grade. Hello. I am wearing four shades of eyeshadow. My hair has been lovingly blown dry, strand by strand. Why yes, this is my mother's sweater from Ann Taylor. And my mother's necklace! I want nothing more than to look like a guidance counselor. I look like I have it together, don't I? And yet I was an emotional mess, dabbling with self-harm, panic-attacking like an old pro, screwing up academically, and engaging in disciplinary shenanigans all the damn time. No one believes that I got suspended from school, but oh, it happened. (Okay, it was in-school suspension. BUT STILL.) I was pulled, if not from the brink, than from some less fortunate conclusion to my school years by an assortment of dedicated, amazing teachers: teachers who listened to my dumb problems; who pushed me to work; who suggested I pursue writing and music; who yelled at me when yelling was called for. My parents had to love me, I thought, so I could discount their opinions, but having these unrelated-to-me adults take an interest got my attention. I was pretty lost for a while, there. I don't know where I'd be without them. The teachers listed on DonorsChoose can and do change lives, and they can make even more of a difference with a little help. If you've enjoyed this series at all, please donate. It doesn't have to be a lot! Remember, all your donations will be matched. The matching offer is only good until the 26th, so hurry. Thanks. Reader Comments (21) I just realized that, less my face, your pictures could be mine! Only in my senior picture them made us all go to a studio and put on this faux fur/feather thing that looked like an emu wrapped itself around my shoulders and died. And how sad is it that I pirated my mom's sweater and earrings for my 8th grade pic? I guess I really wanted that guidance counselor look at 13. I've appreciated your posts about your schooling. You were terribly lucky that you had support from adults during high school. I did not, even though I desperately needed it. I nearly flunked out and had no friends. My guidance counselor told me I shouldn't go to college. 21 years later I will, at least it looks like I will, earn my PhD from a top department and a top college in my field. I have already looked up the faculty and staff at my old high school, and that guidance counselor is still there. I intend to email him and let him know where I've ended up. Ironically? My field is education. I don't have a family, but I have dear friends. Soon I'll have some sweet redemption as well. Oh, and my email to my old guidance counselor isn't just about "look what I did in spite of your advice" but it's also intended to let him know that he really can't make such statements to people and that, I suspect, there are far more students who are far more capable than he may think, given the right environment that is. Alice-- your 12th grade photo so painfully reminds me of my own senior year in H.S. Why did I think it was a good idea to wear my mom's old work clothes from The Limited's "Outback Red" line to school? Long, pleated skirts with big baggy cotton sweaters?! Bass oxfords and espadrilles. I mean, now of course this stuff is kind of hip, but then it was social suicide. And I wonder why no boys took interest?! Also remembering my sophomore year summer, when I bought a black Guess 2-piece bathing suit and what seems like all the black eyeliner in the world and attempted to recreate the brigitte bardot look. bless my mom for not grounding me/laughing in my face. Seventh grade is the worst, it's ALWAYS the worst, it still haunts me. If you want the earthshaking Oh God Time Does Not Pass It Is Still Happening shock of this, do as I do and rewatch Wet Hot American Summer, which has an actor whose role is "The Cure girl." It all has special terrifying resonance now that my girl is in 7th grade. The 80s were awful to us all. But hey- your TEETH look amazing. Barely noticed the 9th grade braces, and now this. Kudos to your orthodontist, along with your teachers! Or, oh dear, does tghat bring back traumatic memories? Everyone seems to CRAVE braces now, but I know that the 80s were not that way.... I have loved every single one of these posts. And I think wanting to look like our mothers at that age might be universal - I remember being DELIGHTED over my moms ankle length denim skirts and cardigan sweater sets when I was in middle school in the 90's. And scarves! So jaunty! For what it's worth, I love your twelfth grade photo. One (which is to say, "I") would never know it was a bad year for you. Eighth grade was my most favorite year ever, and it seems to have lasted a mercifully long time. Halfway through, my parents announced that we were moving across the country to Calif-or-nye-aye, and it was a crushing blow to my existence. I almost got to finish out the year--we moved in May, and I had to start a new school at the end of the school year. I suppose, I'm resourceful and adaptable because I made new friends, but oh, how my heart was broken and yearning for my old friends. Happily, high school life picked up and I came to call California "home" but I always had a sinking feeling that I was missing out on all the fun my Virginia friends were having. It is such a shame that your 12th grade picture doesn't reflect your life at that time, because it is absolutely lovely. And your gorgeous post-braces smile gives me great hope. The teeth you commented on in an earlier photo (second grade? third, maybe?) look exactly like my 7-year-old daughter's do right now. I have hope that her teeth and her lovely personality will end up as nicely as yours have! Man. You are really good at blending eye shadow. And, as others have noted, great teeth! I am sad this series has come to its end, yet I am so happy those teachers helped put you on the path to become the writer you are. I've been reading your blog since 2004 and laughing with you in the shallow end the whole time. Thanks for that! Seventh grade always appears worse than sixth. Eight is better, ninth is harder, then it gets progressively better until senior year and half day schedules and boys named JT who don't love you back. And shadow, you say? Looks like you're giving Abe Vigoda a run for his unibrow money. But still darling. If I could go back, it would be to elementary school. I could have done without jr high and high school both. All I can think is: How can I find a school like that, with those kinds of teachers. You were probably quiet and hard working and diligent even if getting in trouble somehow. My daughter is like my sister--teachers just REACT to her sometime. Anyway, I need to know the town and the school and also anything your parents did to get the teachers to help you. JUST KIDDING! I am glad you got everything straightened out so you could write this great blog. Snozma, it was actually not a great school. I had plenty of crappy teachers. But I had a great chorus teacher, English teacher, and guidance counselor, and that's all it took for me. Also I was in no way quietly diligent. I was a huge loudmouth who got in trouble for telling teachers they were stupid. Also I thought the school rules were all stupid so I flouted them all the time. Oh! And I was often drunk. I was a joy and a wonder. During my senior year, I regularly borrowed a corduroy pinafore/jumper from my mom's friend, paired it with a turtleneck, and went to school believing I looked fantastic. My big-as-pie-plates glasses with the royal blue frames only enhanced the look. Once, as I was waiting in line at a movie theatre, a group of freshman called out to me thinking I was one of our high school writing teachers. And was I embarrassed? Not one bit! I was obviously very mature and grown-up! Indeed 12th grade looks very guidance counselor-y. But take that in a good way. Open. Trusting. The friend every one needs. I mean there is a very warm glow to that picture. Every ones school pictures are classics. Thanks for sharing yours. Oh my, I remember my yearbook pictures, too. I don't think I will ever post them. LOL. Anyway, primary or high school, we go through a lot of things. We just try to rectify when we get mature enough to realize that being so reckless will lead us nowhere and that if we just try, we can achieve all of our dreams.