photo of my cousin
When she was in her 29th year of teaching in San Francisco, she overheard two teachers in the lunchroom say, “How are we going to get rid of Miss … ?” Miss? My cousin, a first grade teacher at a public school, Cleveland. She remained innocent, unsullied by the experience. When her twin, a nun, came into the classroom, she ordered her twin out. Miss was in charge of the classroom. Whenever my younger sister and I saw our cousin, uncontrollable laugher began. Perhaps, it was the shocking truthfulness in her eyes.
I would rather be with boys and girls. They have no motives. Both my sisters, retired preK-2 schoolteachers, one with some middle and high school under her belt, would support that observation. Credit for my lack of motives goes to the Catholic faith, which kept me in place and in species, anticipating a Holy Lifeguard to rescue me from dirty water.