In the world of superintendents, I'm a minority: female and under 40. If I had a less Caucasian heritage, I could be even more minor. But the thing I learned tonight, that made me one of the greatest minorities in the room, is my tattoo. Or more correctly, tattoos.
I have two large tattoos. One down my left thigh and one across my lower back, side to side, hip to hip. I'll skip the commonly known name for it, but I'm sure you have it figured out. I love my tats. They weren't drunken mistakes. They are well thought out expressions of myself, things a like, how I want my world to look. I do plan on getting more, but I try to pace myself. I don't want to be covered.
I did receive a great compliment tonight during the conversation about tattoos. A fellow superintendent, who I had just met this evening, said she wasn't surprised at all I had tattoos. She said she could tell just by meeting me that I am an independent woman who does things my way. I know how to fit inside the box of expectations and accepted norms, but I push the boundaries and live as I see fit... I like that. That is a very high compliment.
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