Middle School

Last days of freedom : Madeleine begins Emanuel tomorrow and Eitan at Hampton next week.  Sonnet furiously stitches name-tags in to the Shakespeares' uniforms, socks, pe gear, etcetc. Both kids seem pretty chill about the whole idea that everything about to change. Dun dun dun.

Me, I remember the weirdness of 7th grade, King Jr High, with its school-yellow exterior+white trim surrounded by dry crabgrass and concrete playing fields, bungalows and a quarter-mile track; inside - polished oak hallways, lockers and that smell unique to public education : fear. Navigating the dangerous, unfamiliar, corridors stressful and the grafitti-covered bathrooms a no-go but also: there were some angry kids : mostly black and unlike my black friends from Longfellow primary, who were my best, these were unruly and violent. My first week I got tossed against a wall, jeered, stripped of my back back and left for miserable.

Eventually I found a base of friends, mostly from the North Berkeley hills, whose professional parents believed in public education, and we huddle together with our Top-Siders, Vaurnet sunglasses and Donnay rackets; collectively, we were "the benchies", a name that stuck through high school.  That year I found swimming and that was all she wrote.