Mr. Niece

In my early 20s, after working for 6 years for Coca-Cola, I decided to go back to school and finish the bachelor's degree I'd barely started. I had it in my head that I should be an elementary school teacher. I loved kids, right? And I compulsively taught people things, right? (Read: bossy, annoying know-it-all who liked to play on jungle-gyms.) 

Handily, I'd become good friends with a woman who just so happened to be a lead teacher for a daycare. She graciously hired my silly self to be a teaching assistant, and I began a 6-year relationship with daycare and summer day camp. 

I wasn't not conventionally "feminine." In fact, I've always been a bit of a tomboy. My uniform: Jeans (dirty was good; torn was better), t-shirts, sneakers. My hair was long and straight, and the less I had to mess with it the better. Make-up? Seriously? Not on your life! And what does a coach have to do with a hand-bag?