I refuse to believe her.)Īfter graduating, I stayed in New York and took a job in a second grade classroom at Saint Ann’s School, in Brooklyn, while attending Bank Street College of Education in the evenings. I didn’t realize it then, but it was in that year that I discovered I could be a writer–me, a beef pasty, and my imagination is all I seem to need to be happy.
That means I was free to do whatever I wanted 166 out of every 168 hours, or 98.8% of the time. If you’re any good at math, you’ll know that that means I only had to be somewhere for two hours out of every 168. I only had to go to class twice a week, for an hour at a time. I walked around the old university town and ate beef pasties and sat in parks and read John Keats all day long.
I spent my third year of college in England. Also, you can’t beat the homework in English: “You’ll like this book! And this one! Try this book, it’s amazing!” I thought about majoring in religion, and then in philosophy, but ultimately chose English literature, because I think that the deepest truths about life tend to be written in works of fiction. I straightened myself out during high school and ended up going to college in New York City. There will be three hundred and forty-five thousand chapters.
Maybe each chapter will be a different way to be sent to the principal’s office. One day I will write a book and tell you about all of the ways you can be sent to the principal’s office during middle school. Middle school career in the principal’s office. Somehow, I found a way to break all of them. I grew up there, attending a school without very many rules. I was born in San Francisco in 1982, but moved to Baltimore when I was two and a half.
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