I had this teacher at Claremont High. Madam Adam. She was this tidal wave of a woman, who really nurtured me. And she took no shit. When I came in empty-handed, she’d say, “Where’s your story?”
“Oh, I couldn’t finish it, I was overwhelmed. I had this horrible day, and…”
“Then write about that,” she’d say, handing me a pen.
It just resonated with things I’ve been thinking about lately.