By Elana Rabinowitz
I pushed my thick wooden chair inside my desk and looked up.
The substitute was nothing like Ms. Rudnick, her long Farrah Fawcett hair, her thin frame made me wonder if she ever taught children before. But here she was for almost a full week now and I was getting restless.
“Okay class, we’re going to do some warm ups.” She said. “On my count.”
Really I thought? This is what an IGC (Intellectually Gifted Children) class is going to do? Shouldn’t we be writing essays or studying history. I didn’t want to exercise inside the confines of my classroom, but I was a compliment third grader and did as she asked.
I looked over at my friend Virna who winked at me. I used to sit next to Virna and we laughed ourselves silly in class. Always finding amusement in Templeton from Charlotte’s Web. Double T, Double E, Double R… I guess we laughed too loudly and now I was in the corner by the window about to stretch my body all the way from Brooklyn to Queens. Continue Reading…