Captivating 7th Graders

I hated 7th grade. I was bullied by a girl who thought I liked her boyfriend. I had changed schools. My body was becoming that of a woman and I didn't know what to do with it. And the guy I did like couldn't decide between me and my best friend. They were tumultuous times.




(My 7th grade picture-granted the Farrah Fawcett hair was in style but seeing this you can hopefully understand a little more why it was such a difficult year.)

But a teacher changed things for me. She was my math teacher. And I hated math. But something about Ms. Anderegg captivated me. She was a hippie by all accounts. Long straight hair. And liberated! Man was she liberated! She didn't take her husband's last name which completely shocked me. But for a girl who took two years to get through Algebra 2, well, let's just say math has never been my strong suit. But for one year, this incredible teacher, taught a reader how to do math.
This was also the year that I discovered one of my all time favorite books, The Lord of the Flies, by William Golding. Everything about this book captured me: the setting, the story, the characters, the conflict, the voice of the narrator. All elements of a good story culminated into the perfect storm inside the pages of that book. And I'm not sure I slept until it was finished.
Fast Forward to last week. For three days I subbed a 7th grade English class. I have substituted since college. Although I've been so busy writing books the last four years I hung up my substitute hat, I picked it back up at the beginning of this school year. When life changed for me last year I realized being at home all day by yourself can get lonely. I needed company. And since teaching is my heart, and I only have to do it when I can, and on top of that I can still write while I'm substituting during the teacher's planning period, I dusted off my substituting abilities, and my high heel shoes, because they grow them large these days, and braved the "new" world of education.

Well, let's just say after two days together I wasn't too fond of them and they weren't too fond of me. Their teacher had to retire for medical reasons and wouldn't be back the rest of the year. So, by the end of day two, I was getting a lot of, "Ms. Hildreth, are you going to be here the rest of the year?" And trust me, it wasn't because they were hoping I'd say, "Yes." When I was driving home that second afternoon I called my mother and told her, "I know why mother's eat their young!"
She laughed and reminded me how difficult her seventh grade year had been. "It was my hardest year in all of school." And that was when I remembered it had been mine too. As I was thinking about the next day and trying to figure out how I was going to endure it, I realized that the problem was that they were bored. The lesson plans had been more "busy" work then really engaging them. They needed more. So, Friday morning when I got up, I was praying and I just said, "Lord, I need something to excite these kids. Something that can challenge their little minds."
No sooner had I prayed that simple prayer that I had the idea to take in my Savannah from Savannah book, tell them I was a writer and that today they were going to become a writer too. As soon as the idea came this thought followed, "They'll think you're an idiot." I quickly countered that with, "They think all adults are idiots. Am I going to be intimidated by a group of 7th graders!"
So, in I went. I wrote the "five elements" of story on the board: setting, plot, character, conflict and point of view. And as soon as they walked in I said, "Get out a piece of paper and a pencil." They moaned and whined but obeyed. I stood up in front of them and held up my Savannah book and said, "This is a book." You can't ever assume people know anything. We all know what assuming does....
Then I said, "And I wrote it."
At this point eyes were becoming large.
"And my fifth book came out this past October."
Mouths were beginning to open, but you could have heard a pin drop.
"And today, you're going to write a story."
And for the next twenty minutes I was an English teacher to 7th graders. We talked about their favorite books, the five elements of story and what they could write about. I told them they had the rest of class to finish their story.
"But what if we're not finished before we leave?"
Yes, believe it or not, they were wanting time to actually do their class work.
"Then you have to have it to me by the end of the day. And oh, by the way, I will pick a winner from each class, even though I have no idea what you will win. But you will win something."
And I hardly had to say another word.
This happened with each class. I started the same way and the reaction was just as dramatic. They would read their stories to each other. They would leave class talking about the stories they had written. They asked me questions about my books. They took their study halls, even some took their recess and finished their stories!
As they handed them in and I began to read the creativity inside the very core of these children I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. Then I realized I had to grade them. That the comments I put on those papers would forever matter to the hearts of those children, because their papers were being graded by an author. (Don't tell them me and J.K. Rowling aren't best friends...they think we're tight....) As I began commenting on the first story I knew I had a real opportunity to speak into the life of each child. So, with each amazing story or simply precious attempt I told them that their story was "Awesome! Excellent! Amazing! Great Job! You have just become a writer! I love your dialogue! Your description is incredible!"
I haven't finished their stories yet. I plan on getting the last of them read today and I'm going to post the winners right here on my blog as part of their prize. I guess that's a prize. But I was reminded of some basic fundamentals of life that I think we should often be reminded of. I was reminded that even those kids that thought they couldn't, did. And that those things in life I don't think I'm capable of doing, like math, if someone believes in me enough, and teaches me well enough, I can do anything. I was reminded that sometimes it takes a step of vulnerability, like telling a class of seventh graders you're a writer, to open people up to you. I was reminded that the power of my words can produce life or death, so I chose to lavish each one with the praise that simply trying often gets little credit for. And I was reminded that seventh grade is a tough year but their hearts are winnable.
I was asked quite a few times on Friday if I was going to be the substitute for the rest of the year. This time it had an entirely different ring to it. As I laid in bed Friday night I was a tad melancholy at the fact that I wouldn't get to be with these kids on Monday. But then this morning as I was thinking about the last stories I would get to read and the comments I would get to write, I realized that some of them would never forget the Friday of their 7th grade year when they wrote a story. And that maybe they wouldn't forget Ms. Hildreth either. Because I know I won't forget them.