Thursday, January 10, 2008

Bueller...Bueller...Bueller...anyone...?

Coach Pollock, my AP Government teacher in the 11th grade, held me after class one day to ask questions about points I'd raised in one of my essays. I got nervous, and may have even cried from embarrassment, showing nothing more than an utter lack of confidence in my writing. We got into a political debate about something and afterward he told me I shouldn't worry. That I was a talented writer.

Isn't it funny when you realize that you've been telling yourself exactly what you should be doing in life? Only, for whatever reason, fear, denial, you just haven't been able to listen to yourself? Why it's 14 years later that I realize I want to explore that talent, I'll never know. I'm just happy to have some clarity of dreams!

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