Today a former student stopped me in the hallway to give me an article on self-publishing she’d cut from the newspaper. She hasn’t been in a class of mine for a year, and I rarely see her at the school.
Most of the time I can’t believe in my own writing career–or rather I can’t believe I’m going to have one–and yet this student, who is very shy and often anxious, took my aspirations seriously enough to take note of the article, think of me, cut the article out, bring it to school, go out of her way to find me, and give the article to me.
That’s just nice. And it means more than she may realize.