A few weeks ago, I was at a church event. We were hanging out with a bunch of teen girls from our town. One of them thought I was 14 years old. FOURTEEN. Last I checked, I am 27. TWENTYSEVEN. People beyond the age of 40 thought this was a terrific compliment. I didn't.
Junior High? Not my cup of tea. I taught one period of 6th grade math, and three periods of science - 6th, 7th, and 8th grade. Most of the students were taller than me. And also louder. And they didn't really care about what I told them to do. And let me tell you, when you ask a guy who is easily twice as tall as you to go to his seat, and he is high on his teenage hormonal cocktail, and smiles cockily, and goes on to the pencil sharpener (where he has been about seven times during the last 50 minutes), there is a feeling of prevailing helplessness that will only go away when the students leave.