Aggression in Middle School Girls Essay examples -- Personal Narrative

Aggression in Middle School Girls It was eight o'clock on a cold night in January. Our house rang with giggles and whispers and the occasional shriek of laughter. In the family room the latest teenie-bopper flick was amusing a crowd of pajama-clad seventh-graders. The sound of pounding feet from above betrayed that others were having an impromptu dance party/ pillow fight. The phone book was missing. My little sister, Lily, was having a sleepover. Mom had rushed to the store when it was discovered that there was no more ice cream in the freezer. My father had wisely retreated to the parlor to read. I was in charge. Suddenly, from upstairs I heard a door slam and raised voices. I gritted my teeth and went to investigate. Another door, further down the hall banged closed. I found Lily, standing in the middle of the hallway, one tightly shut door on her left, another on her right. The sounds of muffled sobbings came from within. Erica and Ashley were fighting again. Both parties were at an impasse. Lily, tired of being peacemaker, burst into tears on the floor. There was nothing to be done; Lily had been telling me the soap opera of Erica and Ashley's friendship for months. The next morning, Erica and Ashley were brushing one another's hair, whispering about the other girls, and drinking orange juice from the same cup. The fight and its rapid treaty weren't exactly new to me. Any female who has ever been in middle school or junior high can attest to the truth of the story of Erica and Ashley. But explaining the reasonings, emotions, and justification for the girls' actions is much more difficult. What goes on in the twisted, inner-workings of the thirteen-year-old female mind? Why do girls make their friends fee... ...ion in boys- it's considered natural, inherent, ingrained. What might help more than anything, however, is increased recognition that girls are not always sweet, innocent, and nice, that they do, in fact, get mad, that they can, and very often are, quite nasty towards one another. It is seven o'clock on a warm July morning. I am out for a quick jog before going to my summer job at a doctor's office. As I run by my old middle school, I see that students in the summer program have already been dropped off and are milling around in the parking lot. A gaggle of twelve-year-old girls with high ponytails and higher-pitched squeals is flocked around the basketball hoop. Another clique in t-shirts and sneakers is playing tetherball. One lone girl sits on the school steps immersed in a book. A dozen heads turn and stare at me as I run by. I shudder and pick up speed.