"To find you're out there, on your own.

You say your goodbyes, you broke all your ties.

Is it dumb to think I cried for you?

And now you can feel the seasons change?

You'll never change, but you're no better than the weather.

You're cool, but there's rain in your heart.

You're blowing like a feather."

"Sorry I'm late, teacher. I was up all night."

"It's all right, Mija. I am just happy you came at all."

"So, you're not mad?"

"Mija, I love you. I care about you. I no b mad at you ever. I am here to help you grow and learn, not scold, punish, humiliate or chastise you for being a young woman who is discovering the World Of Wonders."

I took my seat at the head of the class and got out my 6-ring binder. I was feeling distant on this particular day and I wasn't in the mood to engage my teacher in a philosophical discussion about which I was ill prepared to embark, so I just sank down in my seat and soaked up the beautifully, strange ambiance that seemed to flow like a river in his classroom. The overhead lights were off, and the 6 lamps cast a warm glow about the room, illuminating the faces of all the students in our class with a loving, soft light that was totally conducive to our style of learning. It was as though the teacher was creating an atmosphere in which we were totally allowed to just be ourselves. An atmosphere in which we felt safe and free to just be. Just be.

"All right, my sparkly sparkly diamonds, are there any questions about last nights homework?"

A pensive hand shot up from the back row. Jesus Jr. was crouched down low in his seat, as usual and struck an almost argumentative pose, as was his style. Jesus Jr.'s deep seeded mistrust of teachers was not ill founded, in fact, he had every reason in the world to call the teacher out. Teachers are suspect. Their jackets sometimes have many colours that don't translate perfectly into black and white, which is how Jesus Jr. saw the world. Jesus Jr. had the attention of the entire room before beginning his monologue.

"Teach, why do you give us such whack assignments? I mean, why don't you assign us reading and writing like good teachers?"

"Hmm. I do believe you have made quite the lucid observation there, mi ruca."

The class chuckled.

"I'm NOT you're ruca. Man, you are crazy."

"Crazy is as crazy does, Jesus."

"Crazy is as crazy does. See, there you go again. I ask you a question and you slip and slide your way around our heads and you never even left the spot on which you are standing at the front of the room."

"All right, Jesus. I love you. Let me walk around to the very back of the class and stand there if that will help you conceptualize the love that I bring."

"Fine. Stand whereever you want in this little box with no windows. Why are you the only teacher in school that has a room with no windows. They don't like you, do they?"

"Who is they, Jesus? And who says there are no windows in here? My room has the most windows. And the stained glass is actually crystal clear. Look over there at that window." The teacher pointed to a drawing that one of his students had made years earlier in another grade.

"That? That is a stupid drawing, Teach. That ain't no window!"

The class chuckled as Jesus Jr. and the Teacher played their imaginary game of fencing around the room. Butt, all the students had become fixated on the drawing which the teacher had pointed out. It was drawn on the back of an old, used piece of paper, no frame, just drawn in black ink on a white sheet of paper. However, despite it's humble appearance, the students had become transfixed on the piece of paper on the wall. Jesus Jr. left his seat without permission and walked up to the drawing on the wall and put his finger right on it, smudging a little bit of the black ink with his grimy finger (dirty from picking the guitar strings all morning on a guitar that every student from here to Timbuktu had played caking the strings with a funky substance that was somewhere between axle grease and pomade.)

"Teacher. This is NOT a window. It is a drawing in black ink. And, it ain't even that great. Look at it. I mean, it's just a little heart broken in two. Oh, please. Did some EMO wanna be give this to you, Teacher? I mean, why lie to us? Why are you telling us there are windows in this room, when look around! There ain't no windows in here!"

Just then, a demure little girl in the back row blurted out almost in a whisper.

"My cousin drew that when his Mom died."

The class grew quiet. Every student now had their eyes fixed on the little drawing on the wall. They were looking through a window right into the eyes of heartache.

Jesus Jr. became quiet. There were a few sniffles from the back row. Jesus Jr. walked slowly back to his seat and sat down. Nobody noticed the Teacher in the back of the room with tears running down his cheeks. Maybe Jesus Jr. was right. Maybe they gave him a room with no windows as a joke because teacher knew deep down inside that "they" didn't like him.

The bell rang at that moment and a very strange thing happened.

Nobody moved a muscle. There was silence.