I don’t like to go to the Principal’s Office because it makes me feel like I’m fifteen years old again. Sometimes I unconsciously revert to that age in Principal Grunk’s presence. Today he called me in to ask if it was true, as some parent had complained, that I had told students to forget college, drop out of society and move to Canada. I admitted that it was, but explained that the parent had taken things out of context because I had only said that to the poor students who would never be able to afford college or get a good job. Mr. Grunk told me that I was not a counselor and that I should keep my ideas to myself. Looking back I should have apologized and cried a little to let him know that I was truly sorry, but instead the fifteen year-old rebel rose inside of me. “I am an Educator, Mr. Grunk! I may not be a counselor or know anything about college entrance requirements, but these kids need permission to think out of the box that we have built for them. Education is freedom, Mr. Grunk! The freedom to learn and the freedom to NOT learn, if learning is out of our reach financially-speaking.” Then I stormed out of the office, locked myself in a bathroom stall and carved obscenities into the tile with a pen.