7th Graders and Curls

We talk about a lot of things you'd expect us to talk about in my 7th grade English classes, but one of my classes loves talking about something you wouldn't quite expect: my hair. It all started when Jon decided to buy me a curling iron for my birthday. Excited for the challenge (it's always a challenge for me when it comes to using beauty products and styling tools), I woke up early one morning shortly after receiving the gift and curled my hair before heading off to school.

That day at school was fairly normal. I think I got a few complements on my hair from some of the teachers, but it wasn't like my hair was making headlines. That started the following week when, in this particular class, I had one of my students raise his hand at the beginning of class and say:

"Hey, Mrs. Self--you should do that hair curling thing more often."

Because my hair has everything to do with reading Phineas Gage and writing expository papers.

The class readily agreed with the student, so I told said student that, just for him, I'd try making the time to curl my hair the next morning.

Fast forward to the next morning. I'm feeling a bit sick and decide that I'd rather get the extra sleep than wake-up earlier to allow time for me to curl my hair. Well, that didn't bode so well with said student.

First thing at the beginning of class from the mouth of said student: "Mrs. Self! You didn't curl your hair!"

"Yeah!" the class exclaimed.

"I didn't," I confessed. "I wasn't feeling very well this morning and decided to sleep instead."

"Oh. Question: is this what your hair looks like normally?"

"Yes. Well, actually, no. Kind of. I have to--" I paused, realizing how ridiculous it was that we were discussing my personal grooming habits in an English class. "This is totally off topic! So pull out your books and turn to page 24..."

The next morning I decided that if this was such a big deal, that I'd better take the time to curl my hair. Within 20 seconds of entering the school, one of the students from this class saw me.

"Mrs. Self!!! You curled your hair!!!"

"I did!" I replied.

"Said student is going to be so happy!!!" she exclaimed, stars in her eyes.

Later that day at lunch, one of the faculty members who works in this class with me saw me in the lunch room and exclaimed a similar cry.

The time of this class finally arrives. I start things up as normal and the kids silent read for the first 15 minutes or so. Then, I call everyone to attention to go over some announcements. Before I even say anything, several hands shoot up into the air. I try (very unsuccessfully) to hold back a smile and tell them to hold their questions 'till the end.

I finish giving the announcements and purposefully call on a student other than the one obsessed with my hair. Regardless, the comment is the same.

"You curled your hair!"

"That's what I was going to say!" cries the obsessed student.

Now there's no point in my trying to hold back the smile, for the whole class seems to be celebrating my accomplishment with a curling iron. I think they might have even cheered for me.

Ever since that day, if I curl my hair or try something new with it, I will get compliments on it shouted emphatically across the room before class starts or whispered to me quietly while I pass out papers. There's a lot of stressful things about purposefully placing yourself in the midst of a room full of hormone-raging pre-teens every single day. Most of the time, when I tell people what age group I teach their eyes get wide and they tell me I'm crazy. I have buckets full of experiences that would suggest that these people are right; I have days when I'm more than willing to agree with them. But what a lot of people miss seeing in these cute little souls is that underneath all the attitude, misbehavior, and noncompliance is a whole lot of love, and when you're the English teacher who gets a curling iron for your birthday and uses it, you feel a whole lot of it. It's one of the more selfish reasons for why I teach.