Isn’t it weird, the things you remember? Maybe I remember this because I really hated being wrong. Way back when I was in second grade, sometimes the way my mind worked would cause me to get things WRONG according to my teacher. It was something so silly, completing a worksheet on Fact or Fiction. The paper was divided into four squares, with a picture in

We were reading about the Boston Tea Party that morning. Just pushing through the background material with my second block of eighth graders, so that we’d be able to do something fun with it later in the week. There were about 10 minutes left until my students left and I had my free period. My dearest friend knocked on my door and asked me to

My mother was carefully arranging my long hair into a high bun and pinning a crown on top of it. I was looking down at my yellow tutu and admiring the gold sequins on the bodice of my costume. I was glaring down at my ballet slippers, which used to be pink and were now spray-painted a gold color to match the costume selected for