New School
The transition from elementary to middle school was both one of the most stressful and exciting times of my life. I can still remember the very first day of school. There’s about a 36 minute drive between my house and Synapse School. Normally, I’m quite chatty during the drive to school, not today. I could feel the tension building as I got closer and closer to school. Some part of me assumed it would turn out alright, but none-the-less I kept thinking. I thought of everything that could go wrong, everything that I might do or not do and whether that would be for the better in the end. I watched the time estimate slowly shrinking and shrinking until there were only four minutes left. I sat very still for those last four minutes, and by the end of the drive, the tension was palpable. We stopped outside the school. After one last glance back at the car, I got out.
There was a long open stretch of land ahead of me. It was partially covered in a matte green turf. Kids were walking by here and there, but it was mostly empty. After a moment of hesitation, I crossed the gap with my head down. I remember roughly where my advisory is. Not because I had some comprehension of the campus nor any idea where anything was or what I was doing, more so that I had seen it once several weeks ago. There was a hulking grey building with a blue door that was comically small compared to the building. It had a silver bar which appeared to be connected to some sort of push to open mechanism. I pushed open the door with a surprisingly satisfying thud as it hit the wall. I stumbled into a large room, like a really large room. There was a large stage with speakers on each side. I noticed a trampoline in the corner. There was also a spiralling set of stairs stationed in the corner that seemed to lead to a second floor. Bingo. With a few glances left and right I ascended the stairs. It led me into a long, rectangular carpeted room with pillars dropped throughout it at somewhat regular intervals. There were several smaller rooms branching off of this room. Out of them I noticed one particularly small room. That was my advisory.
I scuttled over to the door. Slow enough not to try to stand out, but fast enough not to appear lingering. I put my hand on the door knob. This is it. I hesitate for a second. I turn the knob. I open the door. I walk in. I see several children roughly my age sitting on a couch like a clown-car, and a few more were dispersed throughout the room in chairs at desks. I also noticed one adult: my advisor. They greeted me. I looked around for a place to sit down. Scared to stand out, I picked the closest chair to sit down into. I wasn’t really sitting, just kind of perching. As if at any moment someone might pounce on me.
“Alright, I think we have everyone. I’m Michelle, let’s go around in a circle and introduce ourselves,” Michelle announced. One by one we all introduce ourselves. You can see by the way that the kids interact with each other that they know each other. And then I remembered that in fact, everyone had a year before this to get to know each other if they joined in middle school. If they joined earlier… It got to be my turn.
“Uh, I’m Jasper, and I- What was the question?” The question was what was your favorite ice-cream flavor. “Uh, I like um... Vanilla is pretty good I guess.” While the others finished introducing themselves, my mind started tearing apart every way in which I butchered that. Then we moved into some sort of time where we did nothing. This was probably to let us socialise with each other. I awkwardly sat down at one of the four whiteboard tables jammed into the cramped space. There were two others sitting there. It was clear that they knew each other.
“Uh, hello I’m Jasper,” I state. Did that sound lame? Probably. They look over at me with a look that, looking back on it I would characterize as welcoming. However at the time it seemed like skepticism.
“Hey, I’m Skyler. Do you want to play?” They were playing some card game. It involved drawing cards from a deck, placing them on the table in a neat pile, and violently slapping said pile in a seemingly random order. It seemed right up my alley.
“Oh uh, sure. Also what’s your name?” I ask of the other boy sitting at the table who seemed to be winning. The blue-eyed blond kid looked up at me, appearing to notice me for the first time.
“Oh hi, I’m Max. Wanna join?” The boy seemed friendly. I decided joining would be a good opportunity to build social connections. I elect to join in. I pull up a chair and start playing. It’s quite fun, not interesting really, but a pleasant way to pass the time and give off an illusion of purpose. I could feel the relief flood over me as I realized that I had done a satisfactory job.
This continued for another four minutes or so until we had to pack up for dismissal. It seemed as if everyone who was playing games, who was pretty much everyone, were congregating around one small cabinet to store them for the day. The crowd managed to form a pseudo-orderly queue without seeming to verbally communicate. I was honestly quite impressed at the efficiency with which they put away their materials.
“Okay, I hope everyone had a great advisory. You’re going to go to a meeting in the makerspace, do you know where that is?” Michelle’s voice seemed to cut through the chaos to deliver an announcement. There was some back and forth of clarifying questions but for the most part it seemed like everyone was on the same page.
Once they were sure everyone understood what was going on, we were dismissed. People filed out of the room in clusters, often corresponding with previous social groups and fractures. I decided to walk with the two kids I played with during advisory. We talked about whatever came to mind, just passing the time. When I think back on that day, I think it’s undeniable that it was awkward and uncomfortable. But, all things considered, I think it went really well.
