First Day of Seventh Grade Jitters

Morgan and I walked through those halls for the first time in our lives. It seemed almost impossible for us to finally be in junior high already. We found some of our friends and talked until the bell told us it was time to go to class. I walked into first hour English scared and shy at the same time. I looked at the over head and saw a seating chart. I found my name and looked around the room for it. Ms. Kaliski told me where it was I went there.1

"Good morning class! Welcome to your first day of seventh grade! Now I would like to talk to you about the rules of the class. Then I will give you some papers for your parents to fill out."2

Amazing how incredibly boring it was already. I mean, she was talking about rules! Would every class be like this? I hoped not. But it turned out that every class DID turn out that way. Math was next, which was really boring. Then it'd be Reading, Geography, P.E., and lastly Art. The teachers, Ms.Kaliski, Mrs.Yaun, Mrs.Adams, Ms.Taylor, Mrs.Riggs, and Mrs.Schmidt. All of it was so boring. Classes were hard to find. 3

Then when I went to lunch, the lines were really long. All of us new seventh graders didn't know our I.D. number. I did though. I had a cousin that was a year older than me and told me that it'd wise to know it. I was so very proud of myself. But in every class that had shown a seating chart, I was confused by. 4

That was also the day when I found out the horrors of the "PAR Book." It was a book where you put down your assignments for the class. It had to be stamped. If it wasn't, you got PAR. That was after school for forty-five minutes. You just sat there doing homework. But not only did it need to be stamped, but it needed to be stamped in the "YES" column. The other columns were homework, tardy, and materials. If stamped there, you'd go to PAR. If you covered it up, Saturday School. Your book would be taken away until the end of PAR, then given back to you. 5

I had gotten it once in my whole three years of junior high. It was in that year of seventh grade. I forgot it at home and was given a back up yellow page. It really sucked. I thought I was going to cry. I had been a responsible student and the teachers liked me. The sixth hour teacher took my book, like they do if they see a "NO" stamp, and walked me to where I thought I would never return.6

My brother had gotten it five times in the whole three years. Unlike him, I had learned my lesson the first time around. But I could never forget those three years, especially that first day of seventh grade when I knew the world would never be the same. I'd loose friends, gain some, and especially on the way was some too dramatic drama.7