My early school days pointed to one thing, fifth grade. The day I walked in to my school to attend first grade I had one thing on my mind, fifth grade. The reason for this was very simple. All of the kids that grew up in my neighborhood talked about one thing as far as elementary school goes. All anyone had to say was the magical words "fifth grade" and everyone knew what was going to be talked about. There was one fifth grade teacher and this teacher was the meanest, strictest, scariest teacher in the history of school itself.

Walking through the doors as a first grader meant I had four more years before I had to worry about the infamous fifth grade teacher. The countdown began with first grade and each year that followed, the time got closer. The first grade classrooms were in the opposite end of the building from the fifth grade classroom so I had no clue where the fifth grade teacher was located. As a first grader I would occasionally here of the fifth grader that got paddled for something. It was during one of these stories that I heard something shocking. The fifth grade teacher was a woman! The last thing my mind pictured attached to a paddle was the hand of a woman.

The first day of school as a second grader was interesting because I moved out of the first grade wing of the building. I asked my mother to take me to school before it started so I could find my class room. We went to the principal's office to find my room number. As we walked in a woman passed us walking out the door. She turned around and asked the secretary how many students she had this year. The secretary informed her that she would have 45 students until the new fifth grade teacher arrived in about a week. It was her! The famous fifth grade teacher and she walked right by me! The good news was, my chances doubled of not getting her as a teacher. The reason was the school hired an additional fifth grade teacher to accommodate the additional enrollment.

My third grade year arrived and it and fourth grade was the only thing between me and "the teacher". Of course I had still a fifty percent change I would get her but I still didn't like the odds. The first two years were alright but starting with my third grade year I really enjoyed school. I hadn't heard too many bad stories about the fifth grade teacher and with a couple years under my belt, she wasn't all that important to me anymore. My third grade teacher was great so my mind was actually on

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