K’s started at a new school and they’re looking for parent volunteers for three days of camp. I’m in. It’s an anthropological excursion to examine her classmates completely unfiltered. I’m Jane Goodall communing with the apes.

With a conscious decision to move back to the “city” comes some marked changes. Our old school had a median family income of 120K. Franklin is half that. The first friend K brought home has a dad in jail.

So the kids here don’t have the shiny lustre of the Stepford progeny in Ayr who spend their free time being shuttled from hockey to karate to pilates. These kids have the worn patina of old pennies encased in a thin layer of cruft. These aren’t value judgments. I’m not pitting one against the other in tween combat. I’m just trying to pay attention.

The idea that girls mature faster than boys is never more evident than in grade 6. While the girls explore their place in the classroom hierarchy and jostle with a malleable self-image – the boys are busy abusing the English language and using Axe body products by the gallon. A boy at my table blew out his lip to three times its normal size from creating a vacuum around his mouth with a plastic cup. We’re talking a vigorous amount of sucking here.

The first thing I notice is the morning ritual. A teacher camps out in the mess hall and opens up a large toolbox. Inside are the carefully labeled medication for the students here. We’ve got 6 ADHD kids, several holistic remedies that are prescribed, an unidentifiable horse pill packed with a bottle of V8 and the usual spate of backup epi pens. It wasn’t always like this the teacher confides.

There are also three kids with protocols associated with them. If “Timmy” should begin to act up in class, students are directed to leave immediately out the back door. “Timmy” has been known to throw chairs in the past. “Timmy” also tends to cry at the drop of the hat. The kids are remarkably laissez faire about the whole thing, unphased by the prospect of sharing the class with a timebomb. A weepy, emo timebomb.

For the most part I like these kids and I love the age they’re at. I’m looking forward to spending a few days out in the woods with them and getting to know my daughter’s new classmates. It soon proves more than I bargained for.