Four years ago August, I traipsed into my dear head-of-middle school’s office to let him know that I had decided this would be my last year and I wanted to make it the best one of all. He was surprised but, as usual, completely supportive.
Fast forward two weeks later. I was teaching an important lesson, the foundation of my writing approach. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember what I was saying or needed to say. It was scary. I was marched over to Vanderbilt. Eventually it was decided that I had had a brain ‘incident’ for lack of a better term. It meant leaving school. In all I missed seven weeks and nothing was found to be the problem, every test done, it felt like. I still maintain it was mold. My classroom windows every August-September dripped with condensation. I am sure my carpet was loaded with mold. I complained every August about the situation to no avail. Interestingly, though my school proclaimed my room ‘clean’ they changed the system that summer, too late for me.
(11th graders now!)
I told you I wanted to have fun;)
Here we dance to Beyonce’s ‘All the Single Ladies’
an homage to QEII. (I’m wearing the red suit and hat.)
The students went NUTS!