Being dropped on my head may have changed my perspective
a lesson from the playground
The first time I remember being scared that day was when the words were waving around on the page - they just wouldn’t sit still. I asked the kid in front of me where we were in the story, and he pointed. I put my finger on the page to hold my spot but as soon as I looked down those pesky words seemed to jump higher.
My heart pounded.
It was almost my turn. We were reading aloud to the class and, befuddled, I kept running my eyes around the page of a story I had read many times. Me! One of the best readers in Grade 5 (that’s Canadian for fifth grade) could not understand the words. What the hell?
My heart pounded.
My turn was coming. Those words kept wiggling about, not keeping their position on the page, and when I glanced up the windows were a little wobbly too. Was I drunk? No, I wouldn’t be drunk in English class for about five more years so that wasn’t it.
My heart pounded.
My be…