I don’t remember that many first days of school, however the one I will never forget was my first day of middle school in the sixth grade.

Middle school is weird; it’s such a transition and all you really want to do is fit in. You’re not trying to stand out or show your individuality; you’re just begging to make it through the day and not be late to class or run into any highschoolers.

In the sixth grade, we wore uniforms. I didn’t really have a sense of personal style back then. My mom usually picked out my outfit or I would just throw something on in the few minutes before we had to leave for class.

That being said, my first day of middle school I wore a plaid jumper with a plaid headband and Clarks. In addition, I had a purple Jansport fold over backpack that was filled with my ginormous trapper keeper.

Sixth grade was the first time I had to ride the bus. The middle school and high school were combined, just in two separate wings. The high school was give or take a 20 minute ride, and neither one of my parents could make that drive and be at work on time themselves.

My dad had me at the bus at like 6:45. I was the first one there and had to befriend the bus driver because my dad had to zip off to work. I waited for what seemed like forever for someone else to get on the bus that I knew. Finally, I saw some of my classmates and we sat together and listened to their Ipod Nano on the way to school.

I had the same homeroom as some of my friends, but to our dismay our teacher was the scarier of the two. Everyone knew the gossip about how hard she was and how there could never be any funny business in her classroom.

Before long, it was lunch. Lunch was the real eye opener; we got to see the rest of the older middle schoolers and how they dressed and where they sat at lunch. I walked in amazed at this cool seventh grader. She had on two shirts and had popped the collar and was wearing chunky pearls to adorn her outfit. I thought to myself I should try that look.

We all walked through the lunch line and looked for a table to sit at. Of course, all the seventh and eighth graders sit at the back so they could peek on their phones and the teachers at the front wouldn’t see them.

My friends and I had to sit at the front center table, right next to the teachers.

After lunch I finally got to change classes and meet my other teacher, who would teach me history and math. I was assigned the front row seat, and that’s when the most horrific thing a sixth grader can imagine happened.

My teacher said in front of the whole class, “Jill, I love your shoes. I’m wearing the same pair.” She kicked up her foot for everyone to see.

I was mortified. Why did my mom tell me these shoes were cool? They were only cool for her age, not me!

Everyone gave me a hard time about matching the teacher. It seemed like the day would never end. When the bell rang 3:15, I hustled out to the bus and went home, where I promptly told my mom I was never wearing those shoes again.

The year only proved to have more embarrassing moments later on, but what can I say? These things happen to sixth graders.

Best of luck to everyone on the first day! I hope you don’t match your teacher or have to be the first one on the bus.