I've had a lot of people believe in me and that has played a huge role in me finding out who I am and becoming the best version of myself and I am so grateful for them; however, I've had a lot of people doubt me. I spent four years at a magnet school where my abilities were measured up against others' and I was looked down upon and placed on the back burner. This chunk of my life shaped me in ways I never saw coming.

Dear High School Art Teacher,

Just for good measure, let me remind you one more time: my name is not Priscilla and my mother's name is not Hannah. You were my teacher for four years and you only learned my name the last semester of my senior year, which brings me to my next point: your favoritism baffles me.

I don't really understand how one human being can possess so much anger. Furthermore, I will never comprehend how you can sit and yell at the same three people every day for the most inconsequential things. You had your moments, don't get me wrong, when you were a joy to be around but, 90 percent of the time, you were vile. Maybe it's because of your tenure or maybe it's because of the stick up your butt. The world will never know. If you asked Dylan, Dani, Tiva, Marina, Holly, or CJ they would have no recollection of you being an absolute monster because you only poured yourself into those that showed the most potential. Here's a question for you: if you didn't think a lot of us showed potential, why did you accept us into the program? When I applied to the program my 8th grade year (going into 9th), you asked me in the interview where I wanted to attend college. I didn't know how to answer that question. In fact, I'm pretty sure no one really knew. So, naturally,14-year-old me said the first schools that she thought of: The Art Institute or TCU (I know, right?). You gave me the most judgmental look. You're just the worst, dude.

According to you, The Art Institute "Isn't a real school." (Really?) And, I didn't know it at the time, but you hated liberal arts schools. I don't really understand that, because a liberal arts school is just as helpful in fostering someone's artistic career as an art-centric school is. Art school is a wonderful idea if you plan on being broke, have some mastermind plan to become the next Van Gogh, or want to be a cartoonist for Pixar. But, I wanted to go to a school where I could really experience college, because I didn't get to really experience high school. Next question: since when is it acceptable to completely write off and not teach a student who wants to go further in her artistic abilities simply because she has no interest in attending MICA, RISD, or MCAD? You and your tenure, man.

For four years, I didn't believe in myself — my talents, my interests, my dreams. I didn't even know what I was good at, I only knew what I couldn't do and who I couldn't be. That's upsetting, isn't it? My last semester of my senior year (when you finally learned my name) I decided that enough was enough. I remember it vividly — the moment that I decided that your opinion didn't matter. It was over Christmas Break and I was working on our art assignment. This assignment was the first one I had made every decision on without your "help." And this assignment was the second of the only two assignments that I 100 percent owned. I poured every bit of myself into a piece for the first time because I didn't care what you thought. I don't remember what made me finally believe in myself, but I remember how vindicated I felt. I had finally won. So, I want to thank you.

Thank you for being a treacherous beast.

Thank you for picking fights and splitting hairs.

Thank you for the countless times you crossed the line and physically cornered me because you didn't like the way I did something.

Thank you for giving me my first panic attack.

Thank you for practically pushing me that one time.

Thank you for thinking less and less of me.

Thank you for setting my dad up to call you mean right to your face.

Thank you for telling me that I shouldn't have been in the hospital, I should have been in class.

Thank you for being the worst human I have ever met.

It is because of you that I want to be an art teacher. I want to be everything you weren't. People like you don't kindle, you smother. I am a kindler because of you.

Your least favorite human and most unexpected success,

Hannah