I had vowed never to teach: unending hours, little pay, no glory, plus—most damning for someone in their early twenties—both my parents had done so.
Yet somehow I could not stop myself when the time came to choose a path.
Over drinks, I would hear about my friends’ glamorous lives. I would moon over their law degrees, paychecks, publications, and wonder what I’d been thinking.
Later I would reach into my bag for my wallet, coming across a crumpled note that read, “I love you Miss Olsen.”
It reminded me what I had instead…and why I would stay.
Bad Parenting 101 