Day Ten: "Hey Grace, how's charm school?"

The month of November is National Blog Posting Month. This is my 5th year participating. This year, for thirty days, I'll be telling stories from some point in my life. Enjoy!



Nearly six years of my life were spent hold up in a high school. I was a teacher. During my tenure I taught World History, Sociology, Law and Courts, American History and Advanced Placement US History. Also during this time I was a cheerleader advisor, assistant sophomore basketball coach, student government/junior class advisor and the co-key club advisor.

I LOVED being a teacher. At that time in my life it was the most rewarding and fulfilling thing I could have been doing. There were times I gave my whole life to my kids, getting to school at 6:00 am and coming home after 4:00 pm. Long days, lots of work, and lots and lots of 17 year olds.

Teaching is maybe one of the only things I'm good at. And I know I really was good. I was one of the best. A colleague of mine, after a busy morning of class changes in the cafeteria asked me during a department meeting why I was so popular with the kids.  I could have told him it was because I really cared, or because I was hip and cool, or because I was a better teacher than him.  Instead I said, "Because I wear tight sweaters!"

And one time, my mom came and observed a class I was teaching. She told me I did a great job. That meant the world to me.

Now, to the story. During one of the years I was advising the cheerleaders I needed some help one morning before school started. There weren't many kids in building, but I grabbed a few to help me get some stuff out of my car. A few cheerleaders and a couple other kids came along. We were headed out the doors by the gym. Big glass doors that faced east. The sun was still rising so I'll use that as my excuse for what happened.

Like I said, I was turned around talking to the kids. I was however, still walking forward.

I finished talking.

I turned around.

I walked right into one of the plate glass doors.

I smacked my forehead so hard I nearly collapsed and I thought the glass might shatter.

There was a greasy schmear on the door where my forehead hit.

It was like one of those loony tunes episodes where the bird hits the window and slides down.

My audience of students burst into outrageous laughter. Kids were coming into my classroom all day long to ask me about my run in with the door and to mock me.

I deserved to be mocked.

And, I had a brain tumor headache the size of Texas for the entire day.