“In first grade I was the smallest in my class (what else is new?) and the teacher assigned us seats by height. I got stuck next to a little boy who ate paste and boogers. Every single day!”
-PJ Gach, senior editor

“My 6th grade teacher had a meltdown and decided to go around the room and announce -- out loud, in front of the whole class -- one thing she liked about each of us and one thing she "hated" about each of us. For adults, that would be humiliating. But for 12-year-olds going through puberty? There are no words. That was her last year teaching 6th grade.”
-Carrie Seim, frequent BettyConfidential contributor

“I vividly remember my first kiss in first grade, via surprise attack! I was hanging upside down on the monkey bars (later that year I broke my wrist doing the same thing) and a little boy named Timmy (I forget his last name) ran up to me, kissed my neck, and ran away. I was so shocked I fell off.

Then, it was about ... um ... 10 years before anyone tried something like that again. I was a late bloomer. Thank you, Timmy, for recognizing my kissableness far ahead of the curve....”
-April Daniels Hussar, executive editor

“In fourth grade, I sat at "the couple's table" in the cafeteria. At the time, there were only about four couples in our entire grade, so for some reason we all sat together, while everyone else sat at tables that were all boys or all girls. But, it's not like I was actually "dating" the boy -- I think the most we ever did was hold hands and then giggle and run away from each other. But sitting at that table as a little fourth grader sure made me feel special!”
-Faye Brennan, assistant editor