My teacher accused me of lying when I said my dad was a hero—until he suddenly walked into the classroom in full uniform.
The assignment seemed simple enough on paper. “Write about your hero,” Mrs. Vance had written in her perfect, looping cursive on the chalkboard.
Her handwriting was so elegant that it looked like it belonged on a wedding invitation, not a dusty blackboard in a middle school classroom in Ohio.
For the twenty-nine other students in my seventh-grade English class, the assignment was…
The assignment seemed simple enough on paper. “Write about your hero,” Mrs. Vance had written in her perfect, looping cursive on the chalkboard.
Her handwriting was so elegant that it looked like it belonged on a wedding invitation, not a dusty blackboard in a middle school classroom in Ohio.
For the twenty-nine other students in my seventh-grade English class, the assignment was…
