Honor to Whom Honor Is Due

When I first went back to college I was a nursing major. I was the child who went through many a doctor kit from Wal-Mart and the medical profession held a sick allure for me. (pun definitely intended)

Like all bureaucracy, which is meant to suck all joy from your life and keep you from taking any classes that actually pertain to your major, my alma mater, UTM required you to take English 111 and 112.

I signed up with no small amount of trepidation and found myself in the class room of MA. I will call her that to protect her secret retirement identity.

English 111 was fun and MA was a great teacher. I wrote about whatever the hell stupid thing came into my head that day, much like I do now, and MA LIKED it. In fact every paper that I turned in she treated like a Pulitzer Prize submission with plenty of oh's and ah's and lots of encouraging notes penciled in to little ol' me. I am ashamed to say that I developed quite the big head.

Then we had our "writer's conference" and MA said "Jacinta, you are a writer, you should be an English major." And just like that, lickety-split, over to the Dean's office I went to change my major. The nurses weren't happy about it but, dang it, I was a writer and I had no time for their silly foibles.

Whether or not I will be a famous writer or even a good writer remains to be seen, but my point is- never underestimate the power of someone believing in you and your abilities. It worked for me.