Doctor Click.
A most honored mentor. Dr Click. The man who reminded me of the English language. Metaphors. Similes. Grief. Doctor Click.
He saw me. He knew the tears as I cried over assignments. He saw the internal struggle I had. My words on paper— my mind… a jumble of words that were inside, outside and upside down. Dyslexia. Bruised; my confused heart could not process the darkness assigned to me.
The dark place I had seen was unintelligible: unwritable: until:
Doctor Click tenderly and gently helped me back to me. He assigned the class the exercises… he daily instructed us in the rules of basic English. He was knowledgeable but humbly knowledgeable.
Then? The term paper.
Writing courses, throughout my life… were painfully and yet regeneratively seeping out of my heart and back into my hand.
The thoughts.
I had to get them out.
No one would read my work but professors.
He would protect what I shared with pen and paper. No one would see me. No one but Doctor Click; Doctor Angel; and those who were healing a broken soul through Austin Community College.
Me. Bleeding on paper—
Dr Click: Dr Angel: ACC, thank you.
You helped return me, to me, so very gently and honorably.