I remember sixth grade as though it were yesterday. Those shy, awkward times when we were all sliding down the slippery slope of adolescence. The young people I was growing up with, including myself, were walking this line between childhood and adulthood. One day we would step on one side of the line, and on the next day we would fall down on the other. There was no plan or intention about any of it. We were, of course, new at this stuff. Our bodies were changing; expectations of the world around us were growing. It's a bittersweet memory.

Perhaps, most clear in my mind, was the day they took us to the gym for square dancing. The teacher hauled out an old phonograph player and placed a scratched and warped square dance record on the turntable. He then lined the girls up on one side of the…