Advice to the Incoming

The "Advice to an Incoming 7th Grader" letters that I ask my exiting 7th graders to write on the last day of school need to be screened carefully. You never quite know what a student will write. Most students do a fairly good job of taking on the big brother/big sister role of telling a nervous incoming student what to expect. The idea is that each of my new students in September gets a letter to open that makes them feel welcome and they get some words of wisdom from a peer on the academic, behavioral, and social expectations that naturally get a little more intense at this stage.

This year I decided to read through them and get the screening done before July so I can relax into summer and not have to rush right before school starts. So today's rainy weather has given me the right mood to settle in and read through the letters.

Typically I find that I have to pull out a few nutty ones. Some of the nuttier ones over the years had lines such as "Whatever you do, run for your life!" or "Fo shizzle. YOLO, you know, right?"  Letters with disturbing lines such as "Don't worry. Piece of cake. I didn't do any work in 7th grade and I still got As and Bs" also need to be culled. 

So far today I have not come across any nutty ones but am surprised to find that almost all of them have a similar message.  Our group of 7th graders this year characterized the team teachers as good and very supportive, but strict if students fooled around and misbehaved. There are lots of warnings to the incoming of what to do and what not to do in each of the teacher's classrooms. "Never ever sit in Mrs. Cowperthwaite's chair and don't even think about wheeling around the room in it!" (Yes, good. They nailed my pet peeve). The letters also seem to be characterizing the work in all classes as being "a lot" and that "It's really important to keep up on it and get it done." 

Well, now this is all very interesting because this year it felt like my teacherly advice was going in one very silly collective ear and out the other very silly collective ear. More than any previous years, I had assignments turned in late (or not at all) or partially completed and students satisfied with taking a lower grade. This year's group also introduced me to multi-colored stress putty and its amazing ability to stick to virtually any surface, long after its user had departed the classroom. They demonstrated new ways of propelling paper around the room. They communicated spontaneously and often by doing the Dab dance in the center of the classroom, sometimes in the middle of a test. Where, then, did all these earnest advice letters come from?

Here's one that could not have been any more concise:

"Best thing to do in 7th grade - shut up, sit down, put the phone away, read a book, pay attention."

That's it. Not even a closing and signature.

I'm not sure what to make of all this.  Though a couple mentioned enjoying the many field trips we took, as well as some of the projects we did throughout the team, the overriding tone of these letters is closer to stern than sage. What about all those carefully-planned lessons and activities, stories, films, writing shares, experiences and discussions we had in language arts class?  Not much mentioned about the learning and the content.

Hmm. Maybe I will just set these letters aside until August after all. I don't want to frighten the incoming.