To Ms. Helen Elliot, an inspiring teacher that I had in the late fifties at Ramapo Regional High School in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey When I left eighth grade, I was listed in the yearbook as a chatterbox and ‘Despair of the faculty!’ I was a pain and always trying to find ways to create problems, today we might say ‘creative’. I settled down a little my first two years at Ramsey High but I still remember the time a teacher accused my ‘group’ of being messy in the cafeteria. The next day I showed up for lunch with a linen tablecloth and candelabra complete with candles. Well, we were assigned to Ramapo, and we struggled with late classes, long bus rides, no real activities, and so on. I was taking business courses so that I could work in a bank like my father or at best be a secretary in some office building. I loved children and did a lot of babysitting; I even started to teach a four and five year old Sunday school class and loved it. I did OK but no one really encouraged me to think about teaching as a career until you came along. You