One autumn afternoon, while I worked through problems two chapters ahead, a voice startled me. “Those integrals are meant for next semester.” I looked up. A man with graying hair and round glasses stood over my desk. His tie was crooked and his shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows. “I am Mr. Pembry,” he said, offering a hand. “You can call me Colin if you like, but not during class.” He tilted his head, reviewing my work. “Did someone teach you this, or did you teach yourself?”
“I watched videos online,” I admitted. “It makes sense to me.”
He sat in the empty desk beside me. “Has anyone ever suggested engineering? Or applied mathematics?”
I laughed awkwardly. “Those programs cost more than our rent for a year. I cannot pay application fees, let alone tuition.”
He tapped his finger thoughtfully against my paper. “There are waivers. Scholarships. Work study. Programs designed for students like you. If you want, I can show you.”