I was having a dream; I must have been having a dream. I was on a playground, sitting at the top of slide and my friends were at the bottom, chanting for me to slide down. I was afraid to go down when a warm hand touched my shoulder. I looked up and saw him. His hazelnut brown eyes were kind and his voice asked me, do you want to take the chance? Or just play it safe?

Suddenly, I’m Him by Mino started blasting really loudly in my ears.

Harsh sunlight was streaming into my bedroom already, which meant I had slept through my alarm again. I jumped out of bed and scurried to get ready, my contacts were being difficult, and I was honestly too lazy to do my make-up. Scrambling around my apartment for a bite to eat before heading off to work was irritating, and when I got to work, my friend Cam was already there with a terribly large smile on her face. It was honestly too early to be socializing with people. My bubbly co-worker was already shooting off about her son’s adorable card that he had just made her and how it made her want to burst into tears. It was difficult not to roll my eyes, but know that I love Cam very much. I’m not this unfriendly usually; I’ll be an instant human if you just add coffee. As she kept babbling on, I just nodded my head stiffly and added a rather fake aw here and there to be polite.

“It was really so sweet of him, he’s only 6 and his handwriting is just so amazing oh my gosh! He wanted me to frame it on my bedroom wall and I just couldn’t say no. My husband wasn’t too into the idea but oh well, my son was happy so that’s all that matters,” She said with a beaming smile that was MUCH too bright for sleep-deprived me.

“You should show me it tomorrow Cam,” I said with a plastered smile as I reached into my bag for the keys to my classroom, “Hey I’ll talk to you more at lunch k?”

“Yup can’t wait,” She said, “You look pretty tired Vivian, is something keeping you up at night?”

“Not really, I’ve just been cleaning out my apartment and I’ve been looking back at stuff from my grade school days,” I said with a shrug.

“Oh I was looking through my old yearbooks a while ago too! It made me feel so nostalgic for my childhood,” She said with a sigh, a distant look in her eyes.

“Yeah, made me remember some y stuff too,” I mumbled, but my words were muffled by the clacking of my classroom door opening.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Oh nothing, I was just talking to myself,” I said with a smile, “I’ll see you during break”

“Yup see ya! Make sure to get some rest if you can between classes! When’s your prep period?”

“Well this term it’s second period,” I replied.

“I’m sure you’ll have time for a short nap,” She said, “See ya! Good luck in the new term!”

“You too!” I said, then I mumbled, “I hope it goes well”.

The moment I stepped into my classroom and flicked on the lights, I caught a whiff of charcoal pencils and paints and paper. All nine tables were neatly lined up with stacks of chairs next to each one and the whiteboard was wiped clean. The cabinets were lined up with each drawer filled with pencils, markers, rulers, compasses, charcoal bricks, glues sticks, and other various types of art supplies. All my special art stuff was next my desk; that’s where I kept all the professional equipment. It was almost as if the room had been waiting for me to get back from Thanksgiving break, ready to start a new term of art class. A small smile creeped it’s way onto my lips.

I was truly glad to be back.

…

The bell had just rung for the last class period of the day to start. I let out a small sigh and rubbed at my eyes. I could feel the sleepiness start to settle in, but I pushed the feeling down. You gotta be here for the kids, I thought to myself, just one more class period. I took a deep breath before walking over to open the classroom door for the kids. They all had nervous eyes and spoke in hushed whispers, their jitteriness must be from all the rumors they’d heard about the “mad art teacher on campus”. Well, now it’s up to them to decide if those rumors are true. I smiled.

“Hello pumpkins, welcome to Art 1!” I said with a slight grin.

They trekked in in a single filed line. Some glanced my direction, others kept there eyes looking forward or towards the ground. Sheesh, was I really that intimidating?

“Put your backpacks on the shelf over there, neatly please,” I said as I pointed to the shelf under the window, “And take a seat wherever you’d like”

I walked back over to stand in front of my desk and looked around the classroom to make some observations about the class. More girls than guys, there’s the girls who have over 1000 followers on instagram sitting over in that table, the anime loving girls and boys in that group, the guys who start food fights and snorted smarties in one corner, normal kids in most of the groups, and one girl sitting alone in the corner with a book on the table next to her and a blank stare on her face. Nothing new, I’ve had worse classes.

“Before we start class, I need you all to take out your schedules that you got this morning and make sure that it says Art 1 with Ms. Le for your 4th period,” I said, “If it does say that, good job you can read. If it doesn’t, you’re an idiot and you need to find the right class”.

No one moved, so I assumed that they all were supposed to be here.

“So again, welcome to Art 1. You’re going to be stuck here for the next 9 weeks with me, the crazy art teacher you’ve all heard about, who’s excited?” I said with a sarcastic grin. One girl raised her hand, what a sweetheart.

“So what have you guys heard about me? You all seem about ready to your pants at the sight of me geez”

A couple kids laughed, they must be thinking oh my god a teacher said a cuss word .

“Well? Spit it out? What are the terrible things you’ve heard?”

One kid raised his hand and I nodded me head.

“Someone told me that you throw things at us”

“Now now, I only do that when I’m mad,” I joked and the kids laughed.

“I heard you have to draw well to pass this class,” A shy girl said with a look of fear in her eyes.

I shook my head abd made an x with my arms, “That is false, you don’t have to be good at drawing to pass this class. You just have to be good at listening to directions”

“You guys all want an A right?” I asked and they nodded, “Then just be able to read, you’ll be fine”

“Many people come into here and assume that they must be good at art to do well,” I said, “But there is no way to measure art. Art is really an expression of creativity, a way of putting your emotions into materialistic things, so it’s impossible to determine of someone’s art is “good”

“The only rules that you must follow in order to survive,” I said as I paced across the room, “When I speak, you don’t speak. If you do speak, it’ll be your last”

“If I’m on the phone, you must act like you’re dead and be silent. No cellphones, creativity comes from your mind and not a youtube video. Finally, if any of you aren’t feminist I’m going to have to ask you to leave”

“Since I literally just covered the entire syllabus, just get that paper signed and turn it into to me,” I said as I passed around the purple half sheets, “Why don’t I introduce myself?”

“My names is Vivian Le, I’m Vietnamese and I have two younger siblings whom I adore, and I really like my job,” I said, “I’m a fire breathing feminist, I think that all colors are