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“All I ever wanted was to change the world, to make it a better place where the weak wouldn’t be stepped on and enslaved, where freedom was a right instead of a privilege. I pushed myself, I struggled, I suffered, all for that goal, and survival is the best I could accomplish? If I have to focus only on survival, to be grateful just for staying alive, then how am I supposed to change anything? How am I any different from those who do nothing to fix this broken, corrupt reality?”

Mrs. B. was very different, though. Our class only met once a week, but there were times when she and I would cross paths in the course of a day. I noticed that either she must have changed her path to avoid me or averted her gaze when we did cross paths. She did not appear to be her usual ebullient self. She was noticeably absent from her office during times I would usually drop in to say hello. I guessed the experience was not the life changing event for her as it was for me.

“You're sure you really want me to do this?” she asked him, nervously biting her lip. He responded by kissing her, deep and passionate, until they were both panting trying to catch their breath. I sat up and helped her do the same, and she didn't resist as I took her hand and led her down to the floor near the foot of the bed, settling her down to her hands and knees, Daddy scooching up to sit on the edge so he'd have a better view.