Scared straight: middle school edition

I've got to say, this whole transitioning to middle school thing is throwing me for a loop. Last Tuesday night, Mark and I attended a parent meeting at the middle school. Little did I know that we were walking into something akin to Scared Straight: Middle School Edition.

OK, so the guidance counselors and administrators didn't exactly get right up in our faces and scream things like, "You think you know your child? You think he's all sweet and innocent? Well, you're wrong, you little maggot!" All the same though, by the end of it, I was ready to assume the fetal position and beg for leniency  - another year of elementary school for Ben.

I guess I figured that along with practical information about lockers and schedules, the middle school gang would slip in some topics like internet safety and bullying. However, I was not fully prepared for the onslaught that we received. Sexting, cyber-bullying, drugs, underage drinking. You name the scary issue, we were schooled on it.

The meeting kicked off with some helpful information on middle school emotional development. The guidance counselors detailed some of the primary motivators in kids' decision-making at this age: peer acceptance, embarrassment. Yes and yes. We're there already. I tried mightily to persuade Ben to audition for his school talent show. He's getting really good at piano, and I know he'd do fantastic. But no, that one didn't make it past the embarrassment test.

The counselors went on to say that we as parents would be wise to adopt a "hummingbird" approach to raising our tweens, stealthily offering encouragement and guidance rather than taking a heavy-handed approach, hovering around our older kids like helicopters. Yes, this was all useful information so far.

The evening took a stark turn when Officer Amy, the school's police liaison officer, took the stage. I dubbed her Officer Awesome for two reasons. She's kind of hilarious, and I dug her honest, frank approach. Also, I can tell that she'd be pretty great with kids in this age group.

This was the point at which I started to get a little freaked out. Officer Awesome asked that young kids leave the room and then launched right into it. "I've seen it all," she said. "I've seen pictures of boobies and penises texted." She went on to show a PSA about sexting, saying that kids this age see it as a "safe" way to flirt.

The liaison officer asked the assembled how many of their kids had cell phones. Several hands shot up. She asked how many had Facebook pages: a handful. Ben has neither of these. I know there are practical uses for a phone for a child Ben's age; we just have chosen not to go down that path yet. I'm not here to judge, but the Facebook thing surprised me a little bit, since the minimum age is 13. I can't help but think that allowing a 10- or 11-year-old to violate that guideline kind of, you know, sends the wrong message. Stepping off the soapbox.

Officer A. said that if she were giving her child a smartphone, the first thing she'd do was take a sharp object and scratch out the camera lens, rendering it useless. After all I heard, I can understand the impulse.

On the subject of dress code, the assistant principal informed us that girls represent more than 90 percent of the school's violations, with boundary-pushing tops and bottoms. This, he told us, can make it pretty difficult for the boys to focus on school work. Add Ben staring at a 12-year-old girl's decolletage to the list of subjects I didn't want to contemplate.

The guidance counselors and liaison officer strongly encouraged us to try to resist allowing our kids a Facebook page at any age. This took us to the cyber-bullying portion of the night. When I was a seventh- and eighth-grader, I endured the humiliation of my peers chanting "Ceman spreads AIDS" (my last name was pronounced "semen" - lucky me!) when I walked past. Let me tell you, it was awful. But at least when I went home at night, I could escape it. In today's society, this is not the case for many kids that age. Cyber-bullying follows kids day and night, weekday and weekend.

It's not that I didn't realize these issues existed for kids. I just didn't spend much time contemplating that they could become a problem for my kid. Ben still seems so young to me. Yes, he's showing some definite tendencies of a middle-schooler, but on the whole, he still seems more little boy than big boy. I'm more than a little weirded out trying to match my sports- and video-game-loving and, yes, seemingly innocent kid to one who might dabble in sexting or become a victim of cyber-bullying.

I happened to be volunteering in Paul's class on Thursday when his teacher was reviewing this year's guidance "cool tools." Some of the topics they covered were "how to work through anger" and "the proper way to sneeze and cough so as not to spread germs." I want those days back for Ben. I don't want him to have to hear about kids being bullied to the point of wanting to die, about sexting, about underage drinking and drugs. Alas, I have no choice.

At this point, I'm feeling a little bit of an urge to bury my head in the sand. I'd been wanting to see the documentary, Bully ever since it was released. Finally, my hold copy came in at the library this past week. After contemplating all that lies ahead, I found my desire to see the film evaporate. I checked the "cancel hold" box and let it lapse into the ether. It's simply too close to my reality right now. I think the topic is incredibly important. I just don't think I can handle it emotionally at this point in time. The thought of someone hurting Ben is something I can hardly bear.

My anxious mind can conjure all sorts of outlandish scenarios, and lately, it's been doing that a lot for Ben. What might he face in the coming years? It's impossible to predict. I suppose that the best Mark and I can do is educate ourselves as much as we can. We're a strong family unit, and I hope that will go a long way toward insulating Ben from many troubles.

I'm going to try to enjoy these last months before my son is sent into the den of iniquity. In the meantime, I'll be practicing my hummingbird skills.