When I first found out that I would be working in a middle school, I was a little less than excited. Needless to say, it’s been a long time since I was in middle school myself, but I don’t really remember it fondly. There were some parts that were fine and made me smile, and other parts that probably could have kept a therapist busy for a while. All in all, I’m glad it’s over.

But everyday I see students who are still right in the thick of it. It’s not over for them. And while most days they come in with happy faces and talk cheerfully to their friends, other days I see a cloud hanging over them that is a clear sign that something has gone wrong in their world.

Sometimes they flat out tell me what happened. Sometimes I catches glimpses of it in their journals. Sometimes it breaks my heart. Sometimes I want to roll my eyes.

But it doesn’t really matter how I feel personally. I have survived those years. They’re behind me now. I have filled the years with new memories, lessons, and problems, so that the middle school ones are now very dim.

Not so for these students. These problems are in their face. They keep them up at night and taunt them on the bus first thing in the morning. Their nightmares are very real. To top it off, school is not the safe, innocent place it used to be, no matter how hard teachers try (and believe me, they do try). These kids know perfectly well that first graders were killed while sitting in a classroom. They know that kids their own age commit suicide. They know more about sex and drugs than their parents would like to believe.

Whenever these kids approach me, or write these wistful thoughts in their assignments, I always want to tell them it gets better. I want to tell them that even though the school day seems to drag on forever, this time of life is very short. And someday it won’t matter what someone said to you in the lunchroom or called you behind the back. People like that eventually fade from your life as you learn that their opinions no longer matter.

Even now, I have to remind myself not to fret too much about the things that won’t matter five years from now. Sometimes it’s easier than others. But I still wish I had known then to not waste my time worrying about the things I would eventually forget. Maybe if I had gotten a little practice early on, it would be easier today.