She was a fashion statement unlike our mothers or other women in our lives. From her tight Levis and earth shoes to her granny skirts and espadrilles, she might as well have worn a sign on her forehead that said “young and cool”. Who could compete with utter hipness and Peace Corp stories of Africa? The more Miss Hunter shared of her personal life, the deeper we dug for more.
That summer I stayed at my sister’s apartment in the town where this teacher lived. She picked me up and took me to the library. She helped me fill out the information for my first library card. We spent hours reading poetry. I adored the way the words rolled off her tongue and gently hung in the air. I checked out Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Robert Frost.
Miss Hunter let me finger the textures of the…
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