It Can't Be Me...

I can't believe I am even admitting this, but admitting it is the first step to recovery. After chaperoning last night's Middle School dance either one of two things are happening: a) I am getting old, or b) we really need to reign some of these young girls in.

While I am of course biased in this discussion, we shall begin by throwing out option "a". You are only as old as you feel and I am aging a' la Benjamin Buttons, feeling better the older I get. So this leaves us with option "b" based on the fact some of these kids are in desperate need of a reality check. Yup, I said it, and before all the liberal-child-psychologist-you'll-ruin-their-self-esteem people start berating me, let me tell you just what I saw during my chaperoning experience.

First of all, this was not my first adventure into the chaperoning arena. My past experiences have been wonderful and I greatly enjoy the majority of these kids. Perhaps this time it should be chalked up to a long, cold winter and the possibility of cabin fever taking over; however, I feel as if some of my innocence has been stolen from me (ha! I know, right?! That was funny even as I typed it.)

Before we go on, I must state this behavior was not across the board. It was very plain to see the majority of these young women are being taught self-esteem, what is acceptable behavior, and were genuinely as uncomfortable with this display of behavior as I was. These girls looked so cute and were dressed age-appropriately. Some of these girls even claimed to be bored as this scene was just not their cup of tea. This being said, let's move on...

Parents of young girls, listen up! Most sixth grade girls are eleven years old. Do we really want our eleven year old girls wearing so much eye make-up they look like this:

Of course not! So let's stand as a nation and take back the eyeliner from our youth! 

Once the eyeliner is gone, we must, must, must begin classes teaching the age-old skills of decorum. After witnessing young ladies drag boys, pull their hair, slap one another, and use words I refuse to entertain as an adult, one can only assume they have no other talents in the art of catching a young man's eye than physical violence and offensive language. 

As far as the dancing goes, there were some instances that blew my mind as the only thing missing from the festivities was a pole. I love to dance. I love to let go when I dance. But I am not eleven, twelve, or even the wise old age of thirteen. And when I was I did not dance like this. To see young girls dancing in such a sexual manner bordered disturbing. 

What I did find interesting was for the most part some things never change: the boys stayed with their packs and except for the ones stalking the males like predators on the Serengeti, the girls stayed with theirs. But why does it seem like the wild ones have a way of taking over the environment? The last thing I wanted to see in my child's environment was a plethora of Snookie-clones. 

This will be our first topic of discussion in Decorum 101. Until such time, hide the eyeliner, hide the hair-dying-highlighting kits, decline the acrylic nails, turn off "Jersey Shore" and let's see if these young ladies can try to be just that: young ladies.