ETFs to Own for a Lifetime: How Women Investors Can Get Their Groove Back
In my senior year of college I needed three physical education units to graduate. The only class that suited my schedule was Beginning Golf, so first thing every Tuesday and Thursday morning I arrived at the municipal course for an hour of anguish on the driving range. Our instructor walked down the line offering praise and tips to each student until he encountered me strategically tucked on the very last mat. Here he spent a good portion of the rest of the class explaining, re-explaining, instructing, deriding, demonstrating, reminding, encouraging, and finally, in desperation, yelling. I was the one student in the class who pushed the teacher to his limit. Having never flunked a student he wasn’t about to let me go down but I was giving him a run for his money. Each class session I would arrive with a blank slate of skills as though the previous lessons had never occurred. “Keep your head down,” he reminded. And I would tuck my chin a little more. “Now dip your left shoulder. No! Not like that.” And my stress radar would go off at an alarming rate as he lurched closer and reached over, grabbed each of my shoulders in his hands and sharply made the adjustment. “Now just a little bend of the knees, check your grip and swing.” And just as I began my back swing, stiff and mechanical, he barked, “Would you just relax?”
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