My new math teacher looks at me
warily when I pass her the slip
that allows me to leave class for my
weekly appointment with Socorro.
I tell him, “You should have seen her
face. I swear that she thinks I’m crazy
or something.” And, of course, he
asks, “How did that make you feel?”
I think that over and then tell him,
with a smile, “You know what? It kind
of amused me, but it also gave me a
strange sense of power.”
There is a kind of freedom in
having this
one place in the world
where I can say
anything I
want to.
I like how he never tells me what
I should think or how I should feel.
I know he’s guiding me
with his questions but
it is always a path to
my own solution.