Back in primary school, I had a teacher I fondly called Aunt Charity. She was the most awesome human being. Never had a frown, corrected us in love, and had treats when we performed exceptionally at school work. But one day, she got angry at me. I wasn’t a perpetrator of some childhood mischief. I didn’t fail at my homework. I just didn’t dream ‘big enough.’
One day, during a class on Social Studies, she asked us all what we wanted to become when we grew up. Everyone had great ideas. Some guy, with big glasses, had mentioned “Pilot.” A girl who always dragged the top honours with me declared that she wanted to be “President.” For me, I didn’t know what I wanted to become. But at that moment I had to provide an answer. My eye went down to my new uniform shorts, which…
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