I was reminded today of the Middle School I attended in 1972-1973. The most interesting things I remember about these years were the sludge test we had to do in science class,and my confrontation with a male student in band class. He was a trumpet player, and I played the timpani (aka a kettle drum). He kept trying to put his hand up my skirt on several occasions. I told our band teacher, and he told me I had the right to defend myself.(In other words, he was not going to stop the boy.) So, one day when the boy was harassing me again, I tried to slap him, and he jumped down a step and grabbed my hand. I had no other recourse than to kick him, and because he had jumped down a step, my kick landed squarely between his legs. He immediately let go of my hand. He spent the whole class on the floor in the instrument room. He never bothered me again. Neither one of us was ever reported nor punished for this conflict. He did not appear to suffer any permanent damage from my kick.
In case you were wondering what a sludge test is, here is a good description: "A 'sludge test' for students is a hands-on science activity where students are presented with a mysterious mixture (the "sludge") containing various unknown substances, and they must use scientific techniques like filtration, distillation, and observation to identify the individual components within the mixture, essentially acting like mini-forensic scientists to "solve" the sludge puzzle; often used as an assessment to test their understanding of different chemical properties and separation methods.
Times have changed dramatically since my middle school years. Sexual harassment is taken much more seriously than back in 1972-73. Also, a sludge test would not be attempted today since open burners were used, and there were a few other dangerous components of this assessment.
My old middle school was named J.G. Whittier. The school was closed back in the 80's.
Tonight I decided to look up the poet J.G. Whittier. I found a poem of his which I really like, and think is motivational for anyone facing difficult times. See below a copy of this poem.
My name is Katherine J. Krein. I lost my father in June of 2013, and then I lost my mother in November of the same year. After they both died I went through a mind-warping number obsession that has taken me years to control. This is my story. It is now 2025. I still use this site to post some poems and thoughts. My obsession has faded, however, I still notice the numbers. Faith, hope, and love is what guides me now.
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