Tonight, I sat in attendance at my daughter’s middle school spring concert. She is in the Chorus. Even with a warm evening breeze there were plenty of empty chairs in the gym. The American Idol finale probably kept the crowds away. I will admit, this was not American Idol.

The Chorus is about 90% female and interesting to watch for the interaction between the girls. The light touch on the arm for acknowledging a good job, the almost jerky head movements to share eye contact and smiles within the smaller groups, the jockeying for position with obvious social/peer status overtones, the energy of being part of something. This, all before they even sing.

I sometimes wonder how difficult it is to be a child in middle school. My memories of the day to day life at that age seem to be fading, like the photos of my year books. Hopefully it is quite less harsh than the Boychoir School in Princeton, whose sordid path of power/child abuse I came across, coincidently, this same night. Not that her school is always a picnic to navigate. Some of the things I hear...

Lets see, there was the drug & alcohol survey that showed the school well above the state average for both regular and binge use, the 8th grade girl prostitution ring, the two boys expelled for the not-quite-rape of a girl, the student protest/walkout of class that carried threats of expulsions (but no explanation) in the school newsletter, a parade for one student’s 50th detention of the year during recess, dispersed when the assistant principle picked a few revelers at random for their own detention. I am probably just skimming here.

I remember the Principal, hired after an arduous summer talent search, giving an impassioned speech about the bright future at the beginning of the school year, and even sitting in with his guitar at the first Chorus concert. Last week, I could almost feel his despair while reading the politically correct notice to parents about his changing of life priorities, and (desperate?) need to no longer be a middle school principle.

I suppose it is all good preparation for high school’s real transition. On a brighter note, this time of their life is not so bad for us parents. We are starting to regain a little independence and free time, still have our kids’ respect and get a reward now and then for some of our work.

I was sitting next to a mom that I know, who has not had the easiest of time with her kids, and happens to be a big Beatles fan. Her daughter and another girl were the featured soloist and sang Hey Jude. The almost hidden tear in her eye was a wave of emotion I could feel pass through me. I smiled and, in my mind at least, gave her that light touch on the arm. No, not American Idol, but sometimes real life is worth watching too.