Saturday, February 12, 2011

Life (2.5 hours) of a middle school chaperone

They look sweet, don't they? Well, they are (for the most part); however, middle schoolers are not what I would call sweet. Certainly not the adjective I would use for this group.

Last night, I chaperoned the middle school 'dressy' dance. There should be some sort of training program for chaperones (like an 8-week program). I was clearly unprepared for what these girls deal with every day.

The sequence of events from last night are as follows.

Before the dance even started, two police cars pulled up. One policeman was actually a police woman (she looked JUST like the sheriff on Vampire Diaries...weird now that I think about it). She apologizes to me for showing up and shrugs, "It happens, what can you do..."

They were looking for one of the boys that attend the middle school. He apparently didn't come home from school, and his mother was worried enough to call the police. Mom thought he may show up at the dance.

Well, what do you know... about 20 mins. later, the kid shows up with his buds. Policewoman pulls him to the side... She calls Mom on his cell phone... and the kid is allowed to STAY AT THE DANCE (much to the policewoman's and my surprise). What the heck? In my world, if there is police involvement, there are no extracurriculars. Period.

Groups start showing up. It is like the red carpet for the Grammys.  

Many/most girls are inappropriately dressed and wearing 3 inch heels. I actually heard a girl say to another, "You look like such a slut! You look awesome!" And, the recipient of that comment acted like she just won the Miss America contest.

It was awful. Horrible. Shockingly immodest. (Parents, are you AWARE of how your daughters leave the house? If you THINK you know, I recommend you chaperone an event or two.)

Moving on.

Eventually, I am put on 'make out patrol'. So I just walked. And walked. And walked.

I first came across a boy who was bawling uncontrollably under the stairs. That of course earned him three female shoulders to cry on. When I asked if everything was okay, I was given the 'thumbs up' sign from one of the girls. We've got it taken care of, she said.

The gym, where the DJ and dancing was, gave me lots to become involved in.

How many times must you tell the same couple to stop groping one another and making out? One time seems like enough to me. Eventually, there were about 5 couples that I stalked, giving them the stink eye with hands on my hips... They hate me. I am the love breaker.

Moving on...

In the very dark gym, I find a girl in a very short dress, sitting on her knees on the dance floor, crying as though she is in pain... with her BFFs flanked at her sides. Is everything okay?  I ask. I...I...I...uuuuugggggghhhhhh... (sob) broke the bracelet my sister gave me... uuuuuggggghhhhh... (sob) She was a hot mess. I then told her to get up off the floor and look for the parts of the broken bracelet, because otherwise, no one could help her.

Moving on...

Many girls come up to chaperones "stationed" at certain area, asking if the chaperones could watch their shoes... purses... cell phones... etc. WHAT? If you need your stuff taken care of, then you are not hold enough to have that stuff.

More make out break ups. (Here is where I begin to wonder... Why do they keep defying me? Maybe their parents are okay with this kind of, ey-em, affection?)

I then have a long conversation with the Assistant Principal of the school. She is a saint for doing what she does every day. Discipline. Every day. And, she, quite frankly, is scary. Sweet & scary all rolled into one. My kind of gal. My kind of Mom.

Lights on. Time to go home.

Oh wait. Pockets of girls crying here and there in the lobby.

None of the girls can go home because someone stole their money, phones, cameras, etc. from their purses and coats. Stolen?  From where, you ask?

Well, the girls apparently thought their stuff would be safe in the girls' bathroom... all piled on the floor... the only bathroom available to the girls, and the same bathroom that was patrolled by moms all night long... like every 5 minutes. One girl literally had her SHOES stolen.

More crying. Lots and lots of crying. And then, a lot of Moms begging under their breath, Dear God, don't ever talk me into this again..."

As my Facebook status clearly stated last night... Never. Ever. Again.

Side note, since I know some of you that think you are avoiding this middle school nonsense by sending your children to private or Christian schools or by living in Mayberry... this is not something that is unique to our middle school. This IS middle school, regardless of its brand. (Kind of like you can take the boy out of the country but you can't take the country out of the boy.  Are you with me or am I just confusing you?)

Kudos to all middle school principals (we have two awesome leaders at our school) and God help our children. I cannot imagine being in that zone day in and day out. Can.not.imagine.

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