I once asked an English teacher in high school, who I respected greatly, for a college recommendation. I worked hard in his class, paid attention and wrote some very good papers. I got a letter that, more or less, told the school I was applying to not to accept me. I was "a pleasant student who lacks the sharp edge" among other things. I was extremely discouraged and more or less said to hell with school for the rest of high school and then took some time off before I went to college, where I decided I would only take the barest number of English classes I had to, as I was obviously no good at it. At the small college I eventually went to, I had an English professor who was an absolute gem. He told me that I had great potential, even when my work was mediocre. To make a long story short, I got an A from a professor who was known for his tough grading policies and then went on to minor in midieval lit, not to mention making dean's list all four years, and doing extremely well in classes with notoriously tough professors. So there, Mr. Wallace! Take that!!!!!

I also went through a period when people kept asking me "when are you going to get a real job? You'll never make it working as a seasonal park ranger." My dad was the one who told me to stick with it, because it was something I loved and was good at. He told me I'd find a way to make it work. He also told me that if I quit he'd kick my a** from there to the Canadian border. He was right, I've found a way to make it work, and I'm starting my 18th season next Monday.