Leaving Grantosa Drive was not an easy transition after such a stellar career as a student there. My section of Milwaukee was growing and a new junior high school was under construction. It would open in fall, but I was a member of a midyear class. Milwaukee, along with school districts across the country, ended the midyear or semester classes a few years later. Another thing Milwaukee would eliminate, or at least reduce greatly, was the junior high, or middle school as they were called later. Now, instead of attending three schools most students attend just two. Either a kindergarten through eighth grade program (Grantosa Drive is this kind of school today) followed by a traditional high school, or a kindergarten through fifth grade followed by an extended high school running from sixth to twelfth grade (One of the junior highs I attended has become and the other is in the process of converting to this kind of school). The school in the middle is gone. All right, so you’re keenly aware that “The Wonder Years,” and “Hannah Montana,” were extremely popular television shows centering on students attending middle schools. True, but as you well know those are romanticized versions of middle school life. When I left the warm nurturing confines of Grantosa Drive and headed in the other direction during one of the nastiest January days on record my main concern was could I make it the mile and a quarter to John Muir Junior High without a cap or boots. It didn’t matter that the wind chill factor was somewhere around twenty degrees below zero, wearing something to cover your hair or shoes made you a dork. There was no way I was going to give the kids at that school with its reputation for pummeling anyone who walked through their doors with insults and put-downs a chance to belittle me. In an ironic twist, kids today in my adopted Southern California where temperatures regularly climb into the sixties and seventies in January, wear knit caps to be popular. My sister with my parents help had already done a masterful job of finding her way to a school like one of those previously described where grades ranged from seventh to twelfth. I would join her later, but first I had to endure the slings and arrows of outrageous junior high. One of the advantages of the freezing temperatures I would discover later was while your feet froze they would thaw out once inside the school. Once temperatures started to rise and the snow turned to slush, or worse puddles, you could end up with cold wet feet all day. Now, besides raging hormones one thing peculiar to junior high age kids is their weird sense of humor. For example, my homeroom teacher was Mrs. Niebone (pronounced knee-bone). Of course, when I finally found my way through the halls to my industrial arts class I had the straight faced Mr. Foote (pronounced foot). The joke was Mrs. Niebone and Mr. Foote planned to divorce their respective spouses, marry each other, and have little shins and ankles. If that isn’t bad enough that joke has stuck in my memory for all my adult life and as you can imagine there just isn’t a lot of opportunity to use it. As usual, your comments, memories of junior high/middle school, or other stories are welcome and appreciated.
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