“Art costs money. I can’t afford that! That teacher of yours is ruining you!”
The first sketchbook my teacher gave me—she shredded it to pieces.
She said ordinary people like us couldn’t afford such dreams.
Even when I consistently ranked top of my grade, she was never satisfied if I didn’t get perfect scores.
But Emily was different.
When she scored average, Mom took her out for celebratory feasts.
When I wanted to come along, Mom frowned.
“You’re preparing for college entrance exams. Go study. You can eat whatever you want after.”
Later, when Emily was caught listening to music in class, the teacher called home.
Mom was thrilled, listened to her sing off-key, and then hired an expensive private music tutor that very night.
“My Emily is going to be a famous singer one day! She needs the best training!”
She bragged to neighbors about Emily’s singing, glowing with pride.
If anyone mentioned I was good at painting too, she brushed it off.
“What? Sophia just wastes time. Luckily, I never let her pursue it, or she wouldn’t have even gotten into college!”
Nurturing?
I laughed bitterly.
“I paid for all my own college expenses. Why can’t Emily do the same?”