After they shared their first-time stories, I came out to my students today.
One student shared about a friend tattooing an emblematic sad face on his quadricep. The experience was horrible. Another shared about her first season of basketball, as a short young lady, getting towered over by the other players. She got better. Another shared about writing her first screenplay. She looks back on it in horror. And another shared about a round of golf in which she hit her dad in the head. She probably won’t play again.
“We always remember our first time,” I told them, “and I will always remember you. You are my first class of students.”