ABSTRACT
Growing up in the 1980s, I knew I always wanted to be a teacher. I was that kid digging through my teacher’s trash can for dried up Expo markers, extra book orders, and copies so I could play school at home with the whiteboard I had begged my grandparents to get me for Christmas. If the neighborhood kids were busy, I’d use my sister or Barbies as students. I could play school for hours.
