"My professor was thoughtful and kind, deep in his understanding of the concepts and personable."
I started to study creative writing in high school and found a knack for it. My teacher, Mrs. Hammer, pushed me to grow the talent, submitting my works to contests, publications, and using them as examples for other students. My parents also supported me, enrolling me in workshops through a university. When I completed high school and went to that traditional 4-year college, life intervened. My education went on a 12-year hold. With the loving support of my husband and daughter, I again took up the mantle of student in October of 2013. The idea was terrifying. It had been so long since these fingers made anything besides notations in angry peoples' files. I seemed doomed to fail, but my very first class, humanities, broke the ice. My professor was thoughtful and kind, deep in his understanding of the concepts and personable.
Everyday, I spend my morning hours studying, my evening hours working as a bad-debt medical bill collector, and all the time in between dreaming about the day when I can show my daughter what I have done, what I have finally completed. The day my husband can retire from a life of hard labor is the day I have really succeeded, and can say, "Yes, I did that; I gave you freedom. I finished this because I love you and you have always loved me for the person I am." For now, I am far from done, and plan to continue long after my degree is completed. Loving and learning are the elements that make life worth living.