Every so often I have these moments where I remember things from my past. They usually come out of nowhere. Last night, the moment came while I was watching an old episide of My So Called Life. (It was a good one, actually, the one where Rayanne sleeps with Jordan…)

Anyway, i thought of my 10th grade English teacher, Ms. Baker. I’m pretty sure that she’s the reason I went into publishing. When I do get an actual book published, I’m fairly certain I will dedicate it to her. It’s funny because I have no clue where she is now, and what she’s doing, but she had such an impact on my life.

She hated me in the beginning of the year. I was cocky and completely full of myself. She knew that I had only read every other chapter of The Grapes of Wrath. She knew that choosing the Kennedy assassination as my term paper topic was a cop-out.

But, then, outside of the confines of our 10th grade English classroom, in the yearbook room, I developed an appreciation for her and understanding of why she couldn’t stand me. I realized that she was pushing me to become what she knew i had the potential to be. She didn’t want me to become another ego-filled teenager and miss my calling. She knew I wanted to write. And she made me a writer. And i don’t even know how i can thank her for that.