Not elementary, not high school -- Let's call them "the awkward years"

ROUTE 1 can barely remember the details of last night's stressful CIVIL WAR GAME, so it'll be a wonder if we can remember anything from the more distant past.
It's good, then, that readers tap into their memory banks to answer the following FRIDAY QUESTION:
"What do you remember most about middle school/junior high?"
MARY N.-P. -- The difference in body sizes among the same age kids -- some girls shot up like giraffes (me for instance) and some boys stayed really short until much later -- made for really awkward line-ups and get-togethers...
MIKE M. -- Reading out loud from a science textbook in front of the whole class, I misread "living organism" as "living orgasm." I was shocked and horrified, but then felt even worse after realizing that no one had noticed. I continue to experience variations of this theme to this very day.
RICK T. -- I flunked music class in Junior High. Now look after 37 years playing music, I sure showed that teacher!
MIKE D. -- We had a teacher who really made a difference. Mr. Besler taught English, biology and history at Holy Trinity. He was tough, no doubt, but if you worked hard, he would offer praise in the form of an O++++. ("O" -- for outstanding -- was the equivalent of an "A.") Mr. B recognized the artistic talent that another student and I possessed, so we often were given special projects that allowed us to brandish our skills. He also allowed us to house all kinds of critters -- from praying mantises to lizards -- in the classroom terrarium.
ANNIKA H. -- Nothing, because I am only in fifth grade.
ELLEN B. -- Splitting out time between my grade school and Jones Jr. High! It was a blast.
KERSTIN H. -- Seventh-grade language arts. It was fun.
BEKAH P. -- This is so embarrassing, but it is too funny to keep just to myself. I didn't grow into my prominent nose until... well... still really haven't, but for the point of argument, let's just say my snauzer didn't seem as awkward once I reached college. In junior high, I was dating this really cute boy. On Valentine's Day, he wrote me a poem -- "Roses are red, violets are blue, you have the nose of a B-52." So sweet, right?
KERI M. -- Looking like a boy and being a total loser.
JIM S. -- I remember teachers being very tough in "the day" -- the early 1970s. I saw at least two or three different boys get slapped hard in the face by teachers, a couple for just talking in study hall. A few others got "swatted" on the butt by teachers using wooden paddles. But this "encouraged" 90 percent of us to behave, and we were never touched.
ERIK H. -- When an earthquake struck in eighth grade, I was in my wood shop class and the tables had cabinets built into them -- we had nothing to cower under in case the roof began to fall. The earthquake was short-lived, and not only did we all survive, we were sent home early.