Liz Wolfe | middle school
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Thinking back to my youth, I can definitively say that 7th grade was the worst ever. I attended a small town “junior high school” that consisted of just 7th and 8th grade. The main form of entertainment at recess for my group of friends was to stand in the far corner of a blacktop lot and smoke cigarettes. I don’t ever remember a single teacher coming over to check on us or to break it up. In fact, the space where we stood was clearly visible from the school and anyone could easily see the billows of smoke rising above us. I remember being much more concerned about how I was being accepted in social circles than I ever was about getting good grades, since that was, if not “uncool”, at least not cool.