To A.D. :

You came with a red face and wet eyes, the first proffessor I'd ever be taught by.

You were the first proffessor, teaching the first class of the first day.

My first class of my first day.

After briefly and not too deeply explaining you went on with the class.

Then you apologized...for not being calm? for your emotions? for being human?

I'm sorry.

That we wern't more understanding. 

That I was too timid to thank you after class.

You washed away the fears of freshman. 

To M.C. :

I still correct myself everytime I say "SHE GAVE ME A B!"

I realize I mean "I earned a B."

You were the first to show me that this school, was NOT my highschool.

The one everyone had nicknamed to have the word ghetto in the name.

Seeing you in the hallways was bittersweet.

It was never just black and white.

It was color theory - a million colors, a million possibilites

and you, you helped me figure it out.

To them:

You sat next to me at a party.

You poured liquor in my mouth while you held me at the hip.

You told me I looked thirteen.

You tried to touch me multiple times.

You fought my friend.

You finally told me your name and what you did for a living.

If you ever teach my friend Mayra in one of your classes please leave her alone.