A bona fide bookworm growing up, I tended to be a slightly over-achieving (somewhat brown-nosing) teachers pet. In class, I’d be the first one to raise my hand if I knew an answer, or offer to feed the pet goldfish, or take part in the spelling bee.

Yet every once in a great while, I would get a teacher who couldn’t stand me – perhaps it was the remnant sugar rush from class after lunch hour. But she thought I was the biggest slacker, and she’d switch my seat around so I didn’t talk so much. Seemingly to fulfill her low expectations, I actually found myself being late to class, missing assignments and doing poorly on exams. Read more…