s a child , I wanted to be a teacher. I imagined that teaching would be easy, no fuss. Teachers sing watermelon songs. They teach you how to count. They help you draw circles and hearts and other interesting lines and curves and shapes. They write poems and riddles that correspond to numbers on a pink sheet of paper. They guide your hand in writing your four-word name and your family name. They make you memorize your prayers and goodbyes. All very nice, right? No matter how intriguing the idea of being a doctor, a nurse or a dentist, a teacher appealed to me more than these other noble roles. As a seven-year-old child I knew in my heart I was destined to be a teacher. As time went by, however, bright childhood dreams and ambi- tions faded away. There were other choices, other options—and unsolicited opinions and counsel coming at you from all sides. I am now a 24-year-old college engineering student. This essay
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