As I look back on the past two years, I see a path of promise, speculation, and passion. One might say, where did it all go? Where is it all going? And, you just ended up where you started, teaching classes of teens in a middle school. To the latter, yes I am teaching in a middle school. But, to the former, that teaching is everything. My path was not a promise to anything or speculation to any ends. My path is a journey. A simple walk through a forest of experience that each past lends to the exploration of each new connection. Yes, each and every one. My individual footsteps tiptoe in space. The space of a thousand cavalry on a million galloping steps that have thundered over lands unknown and even deeper, unheard. I am that thunder. The voice of nature to a world asleep. Bring to me the unsung hero and weeping child. Take me to the softer voices and to the asylum. Let my eyes be theirs and my feet be their travels. It is there in that room where the walls come down and the roof blows in the breeze to a new freedom of truth, understanding, and reason. A world of color and hue takes them to the gold. And I am only the soft footsteps with the loud cry that points them all to the fortune. God grants me this and I never ever ever take it for granted.