Chapter 13: A Vulnerable Stanza

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. This was the looping mantra that I was repeating, barely having any effect on my breath at all. Rain was dripping on my windshield enticing me to stay inside the warm car instead of opening the door and walking to my unpredictable fate. Oh, how much easier it would be to stay in here with the heater running, wrapping me in a sweet cocoon of predictable warmth. Classes, observations, being a student myself for so many years, gave very little ease to my anxiety, if any at all.

The past two terms of student teaching in a third grade classroom and being surrounded by 25 little beings for the most part wanting to please, could not prepare me enough for a first day of student teaching at the middle school level. Sixth graders. I shuddered at the thought of my past classmates at this age. Are young adolescents still so relentlessly ruthless?