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I now have two middle schoolers. Before school even began, my daughter excitedly discussed all the things she wanted to do to her locker. She bought magnets and organizers. She bought colorful folders for each subject, then further color coded them. She describes in detail how she’ll put it all together, shows me each of her notebooks and why she chose the bright blue one instead of the boring black one.
My son shrugs his shoulders, “I’m good on supplies.” His last two years have him swimming in half filled binders and composition books. The shopping experience has never been exciting for him anyway.
My own worries are less about backpacks and lunches (though I’ve had a few nightmares on that subject.) Every mother dreads the lunchbox.
However, my concerns are about the dynamics of middle school, the ins and outs of friendships and the experiences they’ll have each day on campus. I worry about the kids that aren’t as kind as they should be, the language that’s too mature for young mouths and ears, the teacher that might inadvertently lose my child’s passion for learning.
To me, school is more than an academic experience, it is an education on life. Here, my children learn how kids treat each other, how kids talk to each other, how kids behave when adults may not be looking. They also learn that adults are flawed, that adults have favorites, adults are passionate about life, caring towards their students, able to say sorry, forget to do their homework, too.
Children see everything. Children are wiser than we credit. So, when I send them off to school, it is with the hope that each of those experiences can be with eyes that are wide with the wonder of children but grace filled with God’s love.