As a little girl, I never gave a lot of thought to what I wanted to be when I grew up. I spent most of my time sitting under trees, in corners, or on the sidelines reading until my fourth grade year. During that year, my teacher was Mrs. A. I will admit she reminded me a lot of Barbara Mandrell with her perfectly coiffed blonde hair and impeccable wardrobe. Mrs. A- was fun but firm and always fair to her students. Her class was always well organized, and I admit I would find ways to stay in from recess, which I hated, and work extra with Mrs. A either helping to clean the classroom, organize books, or running errands which would give me time to read instead of running around. By the end of my fourth grade year, I had decided that I wanted to be teacher like Mrs. A. Teaching was a skill that I had been honing since I was a little girl. I began “teaching” by tutoring my classmates in junior high and high school. I would work with them after school and during breaks. I would often edit their essays for them. I think it was a foregone conclusion that I was going to be a teacher.