Middle School Yearbook: Reviews and Rebuttals, pt. 3...

Eighth grade was a good year for me.

And for others as well I truly believe.

There was a lot of heartfelt self expression happening on campus and a mutual respect for fellow eighth graders. In the yearbook, we were all in technicolor at last, shining on these glossy coated pages.

It felt like we had finally passed the rubicon to a new level of civility and maturity. Right in the nick of time with 9th grade on the horizon.

There was definitely a collective understanding going on as well, a shared empathy, all of us aware that our entire universe was getting ready to change dramatically.

And quite possibly for the worse.

But we did our best to stay positive.

And I think it’s important to note that the camaraderie emerging that day didn’t end with ink on paper. On that last day of eighth grade, there was an overflow of nods and fist bumps coming from individuals across the spectrum of tweenhood. 

People of all race, religion, taste, and style trading endless positive vibes. Raising hell in the best of ways. Even the teachers were friendly, delivering their trademark slogan every five minutes: HAPPY SIGNING!!!

But, to be totally honest, it wasn’t all sunshine that day. It was sad thinking of the things we would be leaving behind. And the shadow of the steel high school fence across the street, coming in through the homeroom blinds was not helping as we got closer and closer to the end.

Or maybe it was all in my mind.

I asked a few friends if they too felt the fear and torment of what awaited us across the street. But they seemed to just brush it off. 

The thing is I too wanted to savor this moment, our moment, and our year, and cherish the words going into these books that we would never allow ourselves to throw away. 

But something was off.

Even though I was writing things like "stay cool homie" I couldn’t get the image out of mind of entering these mysterious, gothic gates, with the brisk autumn wind coming in, only to find the vice principal’s office and a treacherous mountain that will take four years to climb. 

It got me thinking, maybe it was time to go. I checked my Casio discreetly.

As we gathered for some final pictures on the bleachers, I settled on the hope that this togetherness would endure. We would surely be insulting each other, and betraying each other, and falling in love with one another, but nevertheless we would be climbing that mountain together.

* Check out 6th grade reviews and rebuttals and 7th grade reviews and rebuttals for recaps