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Thursday, September 16, 2010

Ms. Chernauskus

Thanks for asking, Amanda! I know the rest of you were dying to know too.

When I was 4 years old my mom wanted to go back to work. In able for her to do that she needed me to go to school. School administrators were not sure I was ready since I wasn't 5. My mom insisted that I could handle it. Dr. Lyman, the principal, agreed under the terms that I get tested first.

I must have been born with test anxiety. Or maybe I could feel there was some tension in the situation. Either way, I was taken into a room where I sat directly accross from a lady who asked many questions. Sometimes the questions referred to flashcards, sometimes not.  I remember the distinct feeling that the lady administering the test wanted me to fail. 

This lady was Ms. Chernauskus. She was tall and slender. She wore noisy high heels and head-ache inducing perfume. Her panty hose were always white. They matched the powder on her face and the curly, white-blonde helmet of her hair. Ms. Chernauskus looked like Cauliflower. And I didn't like her.

I started kindergarten that year. Mom was right.

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