Nichole and her first day of teaching.
Nichole was born and raised in one of the small dreamy towns of Mississippi Delta. She was always the tallest girl in the class. Her high school principal once came up with a particular dress code—you could wear anything, but the top was supposed to be long enough for not exposing your belly, with your arms raised up. If you break the rule, school provided you with an ugly jumpsuit of unthinkable colors, which you were supposed to wear over your own clothes all day long.
Nichole hated that rule more than anybody else, because with her basketball player built, long arms and tall complexion it was hard to find right t-shirts, they always rode too high up, and Nichole had to wear that baggy, shapeless jumpsuit more often than other kids. You can only imagine that pretty girl’s frustration and anger.
Af
ter high school Nichole went to Ole Miss. She wanted to become a history teacher and was doing really great, enjoying the education program, student teaching, communication with kids. She knew that the job in a home town, in her own school, was already laid out for her.
Four years went by very fast. The first day of school Nichole walked in the door, raised her head and met the principal eyes. She could see, with the growing excitement, how they were bulging more and more, how he turned red, then pale, then red again, started breathing hard in an effort to hide his emotions—from surprise to anger, from anger to laughter, from laughter back to the dipper distraction. Yes, you guessed right.
Smiling like a winner, standing between stunned, dressed in lace and silk, pampered, manicured teachers, Nichole was showing off an ugliest, baggiest jumpsuit of unthinkable colors…
