Smells Like Teen Spirit, Among Other Things

August 26, 2010

Sometimes I think I’d be willing support a smaller stimulus package, at least when it comes to working in a high school. I’m not talking money, though. I’m talking about actual stimulation. Two weeks into work again and I’m reminded every two or three minutes that a high school is a stimulating place to work. Maybe too stimulating, at least when it comes to the senses.


“Smells Like Teen Spirit”
For one, the library’s computer lab smells like an armpit half of the time. I know. I know. Maybe it’s the humidity or the new carpet, but I’m pretty sure it’s all those sticky, stinky kids frantically typing their essays. Which, by the way, also can stink, at times. My nose gets quite a noseful working in a high school. The other day one section of the library smelled like sour milk, not one of this fall’s featured scents at Dillard’s perfume counter. While I started crying over spilled milk, another teacher suggested that the culprit was…not milk. And so, I kept right on crying, just because.

“The Sound of Mucus. . . ”
To be stuck in a hallway at passing time is like finding yourself on the New York subway at the end of the workday. It’s a little scary and antlike, with everyone skittering about, chattering and whooping, bumping and snorting. To move successfully in such an atmosphere requires Kung Fu focus and the ability to create the illusion of both determination and destiny.

The same can hold true in the library during lunch. While I relish the fact that so many kids want to hang out with us during their sliver of mid-day free time, I must admit that I wouldn’t mind tuning out their voluminous voices at times. And yet, I seldom give in to that urge to hush them, instead drawing odd comfort from their boisterous laughter and interactions, glad that they can let loose a little, even in a place traditionally known for its pin-drop silence.

A Sight for Really Sore Eyes
Finally, teens offer a daily feast for the eyes, although an occasional famine would be welcomed. What they wear is so closely tied into who they see themselves as—whereas, what I wear is closely tied to what fits and isn’t too wrinkly—that it makes me think more teens should be wearing glasses.

Most teens at my school, though, dress surprisingly simply, keeping it crisp and clean.

But there are those whose clothes either leave little to the imagination or much to be desired. I have never gotten the whole “sagging” thing. All I can figure is that there are a lot of teenaged boys out there with some serious thigh burn and diaper rash. As for the baby-doll look, let’s just say that I’ve yet to see an actual baby doll—let alone a young girl--whose looks have been improved by fashions that say “I just LOOK like I’m pregnant!”

So why do I keep coming back every day? For a few reasons, I suppose. For one, I tend to smell, speak too loudly and wear clothes that may very well be missing a button or have a slight tear under the armpit. For another, I just really like these kids. They are funny and varied and complicated and strange and smart and. . . well, surely I can forgive them the occasional fart or outburst or fashion faux pas when, more often than not, they are delivering the goods with panache and pizzazz, two things that never go out of style.