As I continue to write, I realize that many more things in my life are clearing up and suddenly making sense. I am beginning to understand why I was so passionate about sharing inspirational stories with my students when I was still working. As I recently shared with a friend of mine, this was my way of sharing me without admitting that’s what I was doing. This is what I mean. About three years ago, I found myself responsible for moderating weekly welcome breakfasts for new students enrolling in Job Corps. We had this weekly event to have staff and students come together to meet, mingle and connect in a relaxed setting during the new students’ first week on campus. I knew how important this activity was, as that intimacy and connection is what forged the relationships with the kids that led to retention and success. Not everyone shared my passion! Many administrators felt this to be a waste of time and would find reasons to miss breakfast with the kids, citing more important priorities. Because of that apathy on the part of many of the administrators, I would think of ways to make the event as special and meaningful for the kids (and the staff) as I could. It was difficult for me to moderate these functions. I was always so aware of my stuttering and would take great pains to substitute feared words. And I was also aware of how acutely some of the key players wanted me to fail. This one gal in particular, her name was MaryAnn, was highly resentful that I got the job that I did, and flaunted it in my face every time she could that I would have to moderate these functions. She knew I hated public speaking, but didn’t know the real reason why. There was supposed to be a transition period where she would continue doing certain things, a den I would gradually take over. Well, she dumped the breakfast moderating, and the graduation lunches in my lap immediately. I know she was doing a “Ha, Ha” thing, but I was doing the same “Ha, Ha”. As determined as she was to see me fail, I was more determined not to fail. So I found a way to make these events meaningful for the kids and easier for me to handle. I began searching for inspirational stories, poems, and quotes, anything that I could read to the kids at the end of the introduction part of our meeting. If I could read something, there was less chance I would stutter, as I was not free-lance speaking. I found things on courage, confidence, perseverance, attitude, comfort zones, giving back. All stuff that kids could relate to. And I threw myself into it. I bought a couple of books and began filing stuff away that friends gave me. As I shared these messages of hope and triumph with the kids, I was inspiring myself. And I was doing well with it. I still stuttered from time to time, but I willed myself to feel the fear and do it anyway. I even managed to maintain eye contact when I stuttered, which was always hard for me. It became easier every week. People started commenting that they looked forward to what I was going to share every week. That boosted my confidence, and I was slowly able to start speaking freely, impromptu, and did well. These were stories of me. I was sharing my own struggle, my own journey through stories of frogs and mules overcoming adversity. I was overcoming me own fears as well, but didn’t know it at the time. I now know why MaryAnn stopped coming to the breakfasts and graduations. I was not failing; I was doing well, perhaps better than she had with the same task. The sharing of inspirational stories became my signature piece at these functions. They became associated with me. Some new staff and the kids started calling me the Poem Lady. There are worse things to be called. I hope I will find a new audience for these stories of me. Stories of hope and courage fit all ages, all occasions, and never go out of style.