My first recollection that I was "different" came in Junior High School. We had this dean of students who was the biggest man I had ever seen. He was African American and was so tall and muscular. During 8th grade I worked in the office as an assistant for one semester. My desk was close to his office and I could hear every time he disciplined a student. I used to sneak looks at his desk when I walked by to try and catch a glimpse of the paddle. One day, after an especially long paddling, I felt myself growing wet and daydreamy. Out came Coach Swift with the paddle still in his hand. I must have had some strange look on my face because when our eyes met he looked at me and chuckled, "Girl, you want no part of this." He then went back into his office and I made a hasty retreat to the restroom. Looking back now, I think he must have known what I was thinking . . . even if I didn't at the time.