Last night, my supervisor from the summer called to tell me that my intern had come in for his meeting with her gushing about how he wanted to go to college, actually interested in his schoolwork and generally more motivated than we've ever seen him. He called me a couple of weeks ago to discuss the same subjects, but the fact that it has stuck means so much.
There are a lot of possibilities for what I might do with my life. I want to be a YA writer, that's not changing, but that's a timeline I can't control. I don't know where I want to live or how I'll be employed, but I do know is I want to keep getting the feeling I got hearing about the progress this young man made. To know that our time together had some kind of an impact on him. That I made a difference.
I'm not egotistical enough to think I hada big hand in the changes he's made, but the influence is there. My books might, once day, influence readers. They might make a difference. And whatever I do, I want to do that.
Huh. Maybe this was kind of about voting....