Rita seemed to be in tears.

I ran into your classmate on my way down the stairs. I stared at the math teacher's three hairs on his head and how his face turns red after walking five flights of stairs. I heard your classmate, well x-classmate because she is in the gratefully dead happy class that does nothing but sleep and watch movies say to me... "be nice to her." And I remember thinking that was strange, I have always been nice to her as I'm with all who are nice. and she is. even if her ethics may run astray at times, Rita wants to be nice...and she even wants to be brave, bold, to show the world the truth...but she can't, she has too many people to answer to, and this why she has tolerated some one like me for so many years...I have pissed everyone off at your school. From the Dean to teachers, to nuns, but Rita knows why...because I have done it all in the name of the students, for the students, she has trusted me to always be honest, even when it is not popular among nuns, teachers, or deans...so I was stricken odd by the fact that when I walked into her office indeed, her eyes were red. I asked what was wrong, and she told me she had no money. That she couldn't pay for the happy music class I had wanted, that she needed to borrow money from the bank to pay for a swimming pool and I told her to look at me and I said..."I would teach the class for free." and then she told me the truth...a truth that is the ugly nature of that school of yours and one that I will not share with you until you are completely free of it...

My faults are that I want to believe
I want to trust what comes out of mouths
My faults are that I'm no different than her and that at times I want to hold my head in my hands and ask myself..."Why didn't I just tell them this...why didn't I just I say it this way instead of that way...why didn't I tell them...

there is only one truth
everything is a lie

There is an Italian story that says it much better...Italians are the kings of Liars...

An old man was walking away from a village and he see another man walking towards it. He tells the man, "don't trust anyone in that village they are all liars." The other man replies "why?'
and the old man says...

It sounds better in Italian...

Your faults are there to make sure you dont' become a robot. a cog..a pencil pusher...a tax accountant...embrace them like bad teeth... and cipher through the people who smile with you and those who say..."you know...you should really straighten those teeth." Don't talk to people who talk of dentistry....there is nothing worse than false teeth.