In the fifth grade, my teacher absolutely despised me. She would do anything to make me cry and sent me to the principal's office whenever she could. Don’t believe me? I’m left-handed. So still, to this day, I get my hands confused. On this particular day, we were doing the Pledge of Allegiance and I had put my left hand to my chest (it’s supposed to be your right hand over your heart). She became furious, accusing me of not being ‘patriotic,’ and sent me to the principal’s office. The principal and I were quite acquainted at this point and so I told her why I was sent back to her office again, and she laughed. And kept laughing. I didn’t find it funny at all because all the kids in my school thought I was a delinquent, so they didn’t want to be my friend. My principal wrote L and R on the back of my hands. What I didn't notice was that she wrote L on my right hand and R on my left hand. She did the same to hers. Then, she walked me back to the classroom, and made our whole class redo the Pledge with our ‘right’ hand, with me leading the class, and it was one of the happiest moments of my elementary experience.