By Nifty Knitter
Shame on a Knitta
NEW BRUNSWICK — We all remember middle school days filled with locker chandeliers, horizontal keyboard texting phones and developing weird feelings for our teachers. As the whisper of puberty tickled our armpits with hair and genitals with new sensitivities, we were starting to learn how to live in the world as young adults. From shaving to menstruation to braces, there was a lot for a young middle schooler to deal with and they had to do their best to stay organized. That’s why the accordion file folder rose to such tremendous popularity at the time. Between crushes and school dances and algebra, there was a lot to juggle and not everything could be handled properly. But at least you didn’t have to worry about Mrs. Kravitz’s poetry assignment getting mixed up with Mr. Gordon’s chemistry worksheet, thanks to the accordion file folder.
This innovation was one of the few times that you could neatly compartmentalize your stressful life as a middle school student. However, with the passing of time, the accordion file folder fell out of style and in high school, you were dependent on binders and notebooks and haphazardly tossing papers straight into your backpack. By the time you got to college, the accordion file folder was a distant memory. Unless you’re Maxwell Simmons, freshman Philosophy major.
In Phil 101, he nonchalantly pulled out a red and clear accordion file folder to the gasps of his classmate. “I haven’t seen one of those since I first learned how babies are made!” exclaimed Katie Bryant, fellow freshman Philosophy major. “I didn’t even know those still existed,” chimed in Roger Hugh, Philosophy professor. Maxwell unwittingly caused a huge disruption to class that dismantled the rest of the discussion on ethics of abortion. “I knew coming to college would be a big change, so I just wanted to bring something that would comfort me and help me stay organized,” he explained. The rest of the class is still trying to figure out how Maxwell acquired said relic.