The Fair City: How to Survive Middle School

Middle school is a thrilling sociological experiment designed to see how much the subject can endure in three years. It’s a series of games, but trust me–you won’t be the one having fun. Think of it as Survivor, but with more hormones and less sunscreen. Whether you’re the 7th grade class pet or a 8th grade burnout, this guide breaks through the parent propaganda and movie stereotypes to equip you with the gritty, unfiltered truth about surviving middle school with your dignity (mostly) intact. No matter what type of person you are, this guide will arm you with the knowledge (and snark) you need to navigate the chaos with your sanity surprisingly together. Though some of you may see middle school just as an intermission to high school, I’m here to warn you that actually, it’s a minefield of potential trauma. 

Let the games begin.

Game #1: Red Light, Green Light

Forget physical education; the hallways are where the real cardio happens— there is one similarity: you play games, especially red light, green light. When the bell rings, the game starts; chaos erupts, and you’ll need to master the art of dodging towering giants (or become one), sidestepping backpacks the size of small SUVs (or a coin pouch, depending what class you’re around), and avoiding “That Couple,” doing their slow-motion walk of PDA. But be careful: a sudden red light in the hallway, someone stopping mid-step, is always possible. It leaves you either slamming the brakes or slamming your face into someone’s badly secured (and poor) science project. And whatever you do, remember; don’t stop to tie your shoelace. This isn’t a sports movie—there’s no slow clap for the kid who gets trampled while trying to look cool.

Winning Tip: The hallway isn’t a place for sightseeing. Take it seriously. When it’s green light, thread the needle, dance between the people, move with purpose. And if you have to somersault over a dropped lunch tray? So be it. Survival first, dignity second. Remember; the slowest player in red light, green light? Well, they get terminated. Finito. RIP

Game #2: Sugar Honeycombs

Don’t be fooled by the smiles–they’re all as fake as your own; everyone’s smiling, but deep down, they’re mentally tallying who to copy homework from in a pinch. Middle school is a delicate honeycomb, and everyone’s just trying not to crack under the pressure. If someone asks you for flashcards, you might share if they’re good friends. Otherwise, think twice. If it’s a person you don’t like, or even just one you’re neutral with? 

“I don’t have any.”

 Only an academic simpleton would risk their own candy to help someone else with theirs.

Some people opt to excessively compliment others, “Oh! I knew you’d get a 96, Susie!” They’re as delicate and loaded as the honeycomb (in calories) itself. The spited message? “Great. Susan did better than me again. Of course, she did. She probably got extra credit for stapling her paper perfectly or something. Meanwhile, I’m over here praying the glue stick holding my project together doesn’t dissolve mid-presentation.” The message is clear as day. The “genuine” messages? About as whole as a cracked piece of Dalgona.

Winning Tip: Compliments in middle school are like candy—fragile and sharp. Although it’s easy to get hooked on them, typically, it’s not good for your teeth.

Game #3: Tug of War

When using the restroom at a public middle school…? It’s actually a lot like playing a game of tug-of-war; tense, awkward, and everyone is trying not to fall (literally and metaphorically). It’s more of a standoff between people who take bathroom graffiti too seriously and those who just want to wash their hands. However, whether washing hands or using the restroom next to a family member, a stranger, or a childhood best friend— the unspoken rule is simple: hold your position, avoid unnecessary movement, and for the love of all things sacred, avoid eye contact. Any misstep? Well, just like a game of tug-of-war, it might get a bit messy. 

The objective that people are aligned with when they enter the restroom could be completely upside down compared to their typical actions. Some view it as a space for quiet reflection (or regret), not for bonds, while others believe in… it being a bit more personal than it actually should be. But remember: tugging too hard—be it with small talk or accidental engagement—is a surefire way to snap the rope entirely.

Winning Tip: Accidental eye contact at the urinal is understandable; however, look away immediately. A brief nod is acceptable at best (perhaps even too intimate), but prolonged acknowledgement? Absolutely unthinkable.

Game #4: Hide and Seek

Middle school is a never-ending game of hide and seek, but the stakes are always on edge (and there are no good hiding spots). There’s no “grey zone” present— just the poorly lit hallways, and the overcrowded classrooms, and the faint hope that no one quite remembers your name during roll call. Hiding for fun? Not quite— hiding to survive? More accurate.

The seekers? Frankly? Everyone. Teachers who are sniffing out the late assignments, the classmates asking for “just one more answer,” and that overly enthusiastic club recruiter, who fails to understand “I have no personality,” as “I don’t wish to join your club.” You can try to hide behind the vending machine, or blend in with the crowd, but eventually, someone will find you. After all, how hard is a game of hide and seek when you’re legally required to gravitate towards the seeker?

Winning Tip: The real challenge isn’t hiding—it’s deciding whether being “found” is worse than staying invisible. Either way, someone’s going to talk about you, and let’s face it, probably not for the right reasons.

Game #5: Mother May I 

No matter what— you must appeal to the “mothers.” They roam the school, in the form of your teachers and administration. If you see a good deed to be done, do it (you still should, just exaggerate the action further than needed), if you didn’t do anything, but credit falls on you? Claim it by convenience. Remember, it’s not cheating—it’s called strategic survival. Welcome to the honor roll, player. Be sure to turn in your assignments. It doesn’t matter if you are getting 100% on tests; easily, without a struggle, trivially, even, the basic standards are there. It’s not about the knowledge of the topics— it’s simply a demonstration that you’re not a caveman. Not only do you have to play the game they wish for you to play, but dance the dance they wish for you too. The choreography? One mixed with silent obedience and just enough fake padding to keep them off your back.

Winning Tip: Be sure to silently and needlessly shame those who don’t adhere to the same standards— validation is scarce in the wild. If you’re lucky? A gold star. If not? “Talk to me after class…” Both are life sentences in their own manner anyhow.

Even with all these tips, your chances of emerging unscathed are slim at the very best. Middle school isn’t about winning— that comes later, it’s more about learning to fail with flair. Learn the rules of this chaotic carnival and figure out how to bend them in our favor. So, buckle up or fall out, because remember: the only prize you’re chasing (despite it being cheap and rigged) is making it out with just enough dignity to laugh about it 20 years later over a drink as you run your hands through your thinning hair. 

Well, that’s it for this edition. Be sure to buy the next one for just another $24.99…

May luck be ever in your favor.