There is No Middle Ground

I'm sitting in skybox 306 in the BOK center and the Broken Arrow band is playing Pomp and Circumstance as 1,137 Broken Arrow Seniors stream down eight aisles like ants who have discovered a donut on the sidewalk. This isn’t anything like my graduation except it was also in a gymnasium, where I sat by … Continue reading There is No Middle Ground

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The Eyes of a Teacher

What is astounding is not that I remember any of that, but that Mary Brock remembers. Would Mrs. Brock be surprised that the kid who was good at math is now an amateur poet? Or did she already know, because that is what teachers do, help us become who we are? It’s the reason why teachers are so underpaid and yet so beloved.