be open to that too.”
“Are there any long-term goals you have that are
important that someone else support? I know that’s kind of a
vague question. I guess I just want to know how you feel about
all the big stuff. Homeownership. Careers. Retirement. Where
you see yourself going.”
“That is a tough one,” Steph says. She uncrosses her
legs. Crosses them again. “I teach high school right now.
Biology and chemistry.”
My mouth drops. “Are you kidding me? How are
you…wow. That’s crazy. I barely passed those then. I have no
idea how you actually teach it.”
She smiles at me, suddenly softening. I realize that this
is her passion. Teaching. Children. She likes children. That’s
why she doesn’t mind Tildy being here.
“I guess we’re all good at something. I never got the
English/art/history brain. I was terrible at those. But I am good
at math and science. We’re all wired differently and that’s
okay. Who wouldn’t want to dissect things and experiment
with chemical reactions though?”
“That was fun,” I admit. “It was the paperwork and
math stuff I could never handle.”
“You’re not alone. It’s hard for a lot of people. It’s my
job to try to make that easier. More understandable. Develop
compassion and understanding and try to figure out where
people are getting stuck so that I can bridge that gap for them.
It can be really frustrating when you just don’t get something.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’d like to take some night classes to improve my
teaching. I don’t want to do it so I can teach a higher level or