5th grade. I remember a lot about 5th grade. I remember how Whitney & Daniel got “married” one day at recess and afterward the teacher gave us a big lecture about how we weren’t ready for real life decisions like that. I remember earning fake money and having class auctions and how Dustin C made a killing on an old (probably broken) boombox he brought from home. I remember that our class dance that year was to Tim McGraw’s “I Like It, I Love It,” and my teacher had an obsession with making things out of paper mache and for D.A.R.E. Week we made a nine foot monster and put a red ribbon on him and got our pictures in the newspaper. I remember how that same teacher would always fall asleep during class read-alouds and sometimes during my turn I would get stuck reading for pages… I remember 5th grade was the year my feet outgrew my mom’s and I felt super gangly over that, and we had the Maturation Program during which I found out a period was monthly and not just a one-time thing 😳😩 I remember that 5th grade was when I started reading books that pushed me and when I started to find My Things.
Yeah, I remember a lot about 5th grade. 5th grade’s a big deal. And here we are, again.
