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.


who want to learn!
(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!