Mrs. Deutz å deux

In grade school, I had two teachers named Mrs. Deutz.  The first one came to me in first grade.  She told me I was a good writer and asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I told her I wanted to write children's books so my mom could draw the pictures and then I'd never have to spend a day away from her.  The first Mrs. Deutz said, which I remember in vivid clarity, "Nikki, I believe you.  I bet you really WILL be an author one day."  

The second Mrs. Deutz came to me in sixth grade, admittedly a naughty year for me.  I discovered the dangers of popularity that year.  I also discovered that inner realization that I was different than the people around me...which I bet everyone else was thinking about themselves too.  I was in trouble a LOT that year.  I got under her skin and I liked it.  I remember running into Mrs. Deutz a year later in the halls of Holy Redeemer and asking her where she was teaching now and she said to me (again another scarily clear memory), "I don't teach anymore.  I can't handle students like you."  I said I was sorry (but I didn't mean it at the time and she knew it).  She had the look of defeat in her eyes and she said, "I just hope you become a good person one day." The exchange haunted me for a long time afterward.  Kelli and I dissected that conversation for the rest of junior high in fact.

Today while working on Hooferjackal, I remembered Mrs. Deutz I for the first time in many years...and I realized that Mrs. Deutz I was right.  I was making good on who I said I'd be when I was six.  It felt good.  A few hours later, while working on Virgin Territory, I was researching definitions of innocence.  It made me consider when I had lost mine.  The memory of Mrs. Deutz II popped in my head...again, for the first time in years.  I lost my innocence in that hallway, when I realized that my actions had consequences and I felt true, honest, lasting regret.  The Id got kicked out of the driver's seat that day.  I owe them both a lot more than I realized...