As we get older the urge we have to be accepted seems to calm itself. But think back a few years; growing up, it means a lot to be cool. When you were in middle school you had to be cool, whether that meant dressing like your favorite TV star, playing with the popular kids at recess, disrespecting your teacher, or ridiculing those who were less cool than you.

I was never the ridiculer, always the ridiculed. I suppose with my fleece vests, round face, round glasses, and bowl-cut I was a pretty easy target. Nevertheless, I tried my hardest, always inviting the few most popular girls to my sleepovers, hanging on desperately when my best friend began to join their clique.

I suppose it was with those memories and that sentiment that I trudged down the slick cement stairs outside Mickle Middle School, umbrella in hand and jacket buttoned against the wind, to Portable 8 this morning. Fuck middle school. Fuck middle school-ers. Did I really want to revisit the days of being a hormonal, chubby, book-worm, outcast from my fellow classmates?

I stepped into the classroom greeted by the sounds of an elderly teacher (my mentor!) barking “John how many do you have? Four take away three is not two, seriously!” The students were packing up their Trapper Keepers, this was not my group. A few minutes passed and new students trickled in, their clothes speckled with raindrops.

Once we had all been introduced, I began seeing myself in some of the students, my old classmates in others. Alexa Who-Loves-Books may as well be the seventh-grade version of me. Liz Who-Likes-The-Color-Purple reminded me of the few middle school bad asses we had, head-to-toe black garb and all. Andy Who-Skates had the same apathy of the boy I played footsie with in eighth-grade Health. Thomas Who-Doesn’t-Go-A-Day-Without-Playing-Video-Games was a spitting image of the kid who pooped his pants in the sixth-grade.

From an outsider’s perspective, these are the kids that make a real impression. I can’t tell the rest of the Jaydens from the Jaylas from the Kaylees and Kyles.

I want to scream to them: “It doesn’t matter if you have your nose in a book or a funny hair cut, if you laugh when the class is silent or have a crush on another boy in your Cub Scout group, someday kids, standing out instead of fitting in will pay off! Don’t wait to establish yourselves later; the sooner you figure out what you stand for, the easier life will be for you. Please don’t waste your time being cool!”