Two semesters into college and bewildered about my future, I took a Humanities class to fill a gap in my schedule. Unknowingly, I crossed paths with one of the most inspirational and hard-working men I have ever met. Long ago, deep in the belly of Monroe County Community College, a young Gary Wilson sat in his office teaching a class of five. Back then, the class was worth no credit, but the numbers slowly grew as more students yearned for the life-changing knowledge. Out of every class I have taken, this was by far the most emotionally charged: mixed with frustration, confusion, embarrassment, and success beyond any of my expectations.

He taught me the importance of being positive.

Although most people don’t recognize it, it’s become human nature to critique before complimenting. Some of the most influential inventions came from men that were laughed at. Instead of shunning ideas that seem silly, we need to focus on building up our peers and using constructive comments to improve each other. Don’t look at your peers as roadblocks on your way to success, but view them as pawns to train you in the strategic business world.

I learned to forget about plan B.

All my life, I was taught to have a backup plan in every situation. I was under the impression that my hobbies would not suffice as a career, but Mr. Wilson taught me that any dream is tangible. I used to lie in bed so defeated and discouraged by the careers the world told me I needed. I’ve never pegged myself as a secretary or factory worker. Not that there’s any shame to be seen in such jobs, but I live for the excitement and opportunities in the business world. He was the first person to ever believe in my dream of selling natural home-made beauty products.

I became open about my inner demons.

Since we were infants, it was instilled in us to hide fear. We’re taught to sugar-coat our lives, which makes us very one-dimensional. In one teacher’s class, he had everyone write essays about themselves. While most students wrote on their accomplishments and highlights, one woman wrote about her deep-rooted depression. She wrote about being friendless and feeling so alone in the new city she moved to. Out of all, this was the teacher’s favorite because it was deep. He made everyone rewrite their essays to reflect their real stories; flaws and all.

Until Mr. Wilson’s class, I had feelings of deep shame about my anxiety. I had no idea the literal millions of others that suffered with me, yet I stood in front of the rows of eyes and connected with these people, from my soul. Every word a sentence I’d said over and over in silence now tumbled on my lips as I felt the stares fixated on me. Mr. Wilson was never afraid to ask the tough questions, and I just continued to air my dirty laundry. Although my heart raced and I felt light-headed, I held my own and became a stronger person once I finally came to peace with my weakness.

Thank you for the experience, Gary. I hope you enjoy your retirement. You deserve it more than most.