Puberty Blues

A short time ago, there was a post here that recounted a time in junior high. An astute observer noted that, in a radical departure for this blog, the entry was written in third person. It could be that the third person change was an opportunity to try out some fresh fiction technique. It could be that the characters and ideas were so distant to the author that there was no connection to him. The real reason is this: I believe that all of junior high school is best viewed in third person.
When I recall the onset of puberty, I see it from above. Like the diagrams you see in newspapers of some horrible accident the day after. I have never heard of anyone waxing rhapsodic about their years in junior high (or middle school, if that configuration holds for you). It seems that for most humans the years from roughly thirteen to sixteen are spent trying desperately to adapt to the world in a constantly shifting body filled with surging hormones and oils. It's hard to imagine what might erupt on any given day.
Once you have reached the relatively calm days of high school, you can begin to imagine a future that doesn't necessarily include massive insecurity. That is not to say that high school years are care-free and safe from biochemical and psychological trauma. The main difference is that by tenth or eleventh grade you have some idea about where you fit in, if you fit in at all.
Junior high is a proving ground for social order. There is plenty of hope - you could still be cool if you ditched that backpack with Care Bears on it, or you could still experiment with sports and clubs. There is massive potential in junior high along with the massive terror that accompanies it. That's why I believe that way back in 1976, the folks at Saturday Night Live were on to something. There was a commercial for a product called "Rovco's Puberty Helper." Puberty Helper is a large brown bag with holes cut in it for her arms, eyes and mouth with a huge smiley face on the front. At the onset of puberty, kids pull the bag over their heads and don't have to worry again until their lives have become their own again.

"I've got a blue and red Adidas bag and a humongous binder,
I'm trying my best not to look like a minor niner.
I went out for the football team to prove that I'm a man
I guess I shouldn't tell them that I like Duran Duran.
This is me in grade nine, baby, this is me in grade nine
This is me in grade nine, baby, this is me in grade nine
Well, half my friends are crazy and the others are depressed
and none of them can help me study for my math test.
I got into the classroom and my knowledge was gone;
I guess I should've studied instead of watching Wrath Of Khan.
This is me in grade nine, baby, this is me in grade nine
This is me in grade nine, baby, this is me in grade nine"
-Barenaked Ladies: Grade 9