"Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions."

His name was Ozzie, like the muppet, and I knew him more for his class clown humor and chuckle than anything else. It was my final year of high school and I got stuck with Ms. Glusman for English, an octogenarian renowned for the jiggling jowl at her jaw and gruff approach. The class was a motley crew of misfits, thugs and jesters, with nary a single x-chromosome to be seen. I never expected to learn anything in that class, I figured if I go through the motions, read what I have to and hand in what's asked, I'll be fine. At some point midway through the semester, Ms. Glusman had us read Native Son by Richard Wright. I read it eagerly, having previously read Black Boy, and when the time came to discuss the end and what we had learned from the book, I thought I knew it all (life since has been very humbling). Ozzie, who had only opened his mouth most times to take a jab at Glusman, chimed in on the book when prompted about foreshadowing. He explained that the scene at the beginning of the book involving Bigger, the book's gargantuan protagonist, and a cornered rat was foreshadowing for what would occur between Bigger and the Chicago PD. I was humbled, my ego had dismissed this kid as just another numbskull.

It made a strong impression on me, the fact that this kid whom I had written off could be so insightful. It's led me to teaching and I'm a big advocate that the sky's the limit, even if your wings get clipped at birth. It's no secret that socioeconomic factors such as wealth, class and a parent's educational level all play a role (read Freakonomics, it will open your eyes). The reality is that if you get a crap hand, chances are you won't be getting the pot. That doesn't mean that, with education and strong motivation , you can't transcend your upbringing. That doesn't mean that your Einsteins, your Bruce Lees, your Malcolm X's aren't the same children I see in classrooms everyday.

It used to rankle me. I used to get into that argument, at least once a year, with my cousin Lucho. See, he's of the ilk that think that those same ghetto kids dreaming of doing something big or impactful are just indulging pipe dreams. I don't, everyone has potential, be it artistic, intellectual or physical. If I didn't think that these kids I see everyday can't silence the naysayers I wouldn't bother, but I see, I hear and I've come to love my little sixth grade muppets, all thanks to Ozzie.