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