In my fifth grade year, 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. Don’t believe me? 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 angry at me, saying 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 because 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 notice was that she wrote L on my right hand and R on my left hand. She wrote the same on her hands. Then she walked me back to the classroom, had the whole class redo the Pledge with our ‘right’ hands, with me leading, and it was one of the happiest moments of my elementary school experience.