In fifth grade, my teacher absolutely despised me. She did everything she could to make me cry and sent me to the principal's office at every opportunity. You might not believe me, but I’m left-handed. Even now, I still get my hands mixed up. On this specific day, during the Pledge of Allegiance, I placed my left hand on my chest (it should be your right hand over your heart). She got mad at me, telling me that I wasn’t 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, I mean all the kids in my school thought I was a delinquent so they didn’t want to be my friend. My principal wrote on the back of my hands, L and R. What I didn’t realize was that she wrote L on my right hand and R on my left hand. She did the same to hers. Then she took me back to the classroom, had everyone redo the Pledge with our ‘right’ hands, with me leading the class, and it became one of the happiest moments of my time in elementary school.