I was ten. I had braces. I was heavy. I sweated a lot. I had a MEAN ARM and was the best quarterback in my Hebrew school.
That's what I remember of the sixth grade. My mother didn't even save my picture from that year because I looked so...pre-adolescent. Nothing fit right and I had an enormous crush on my science teacher (who then quit, leaving me heartbroken). Every once in a while I check the phone book for his name.
I was obnoxious, but not violent.
Tomorrow, I am going to do a lesson for a nice group of sixth graders at a very nice middle school. I had the most wonderful interview with a group of individuals I respected. It was terrific. Whatever happens, it was a very pleasant opportunity.
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