When I entered college in the early 1980s, I had my heart set on being a first-grade teacher. I did all of my observations in others' first-grade classroom. I interviewed for my first job in a first-grade classroom. At last the district offered me a job---as a fifth-grade teacher in an inner-city building, considered at the time to be one of our district's most difficult tasks. It wasn't the first-grade classroom after I had hoped for, but it was my classroom after I had made such great efforts!     I managed to deal with everything in first year successfully, while working to form relationships with my students was no easy thing, especially with Alexader. He had learning disabilities in both math and reading. The other children were sometimes unfriendly to him. He was a difficult child to get to open up, but I was determined to make efforts.     You can imagine my delight when finally, in late spring, Alexander raised his hand during the math class discussion for the first time ever. Thrilled, I immediately called him.    Well, you can imagine my surprise when he suddenly told a story about his grandma, who had a hole in her head. You see, we were studying fraction that day, and I had just explained that a fraction is "a part of a whole". Alexander obviously didn't realize the difference between "whole" and "hole". "Homophones ''I told myself,"had better be tomorrow's English lesson."    Acknowledging Alexander that day was exactly what he needed from me. We had suddenly developed a special relationship. Alexander felt such a connection to me after that, that he even went one step further.     I arrived at the school the following morning and was surprised to find Alexander and his grandma waiting for me. Grandma began by saying,"Alexander said he told you that I had a hole in my head."I smiled nervously and said ,"Don't worry. You know kids! They have great imaginations"Grandma replied,"You didn't believe him, did you?""No, of course not,"I said .Well, just at that time, Grandma proudly showed the hole in her head.    I will never forget that day, and the lesson that I learned from being Alexander's teacher.    If a child ever again tells me about a family member with a hole in his or her head, I will believe him or her! When offered a job as a fifth-grade teacher, the writer  _
felt happy for becoming a real teacher felt sorry for having wasted her energy felt disappointed at not realizing her dream didn't believe she could do the work well