VARIETY SMITH

Variety Smith is one of the finest women I know. She's magical in the classroom, soft as down and clear as a desert sky. She's black skinned, red blooded, golden hearted and one of the most loving people I've ever met. The kids worship her. Outside the classroom she is one tough broad. She grew up in the neighborhood, the oldest daughter of a father who was an abusive drunk. Her mother died when she was nine and she was left with the care of three younger brothers.

She fought her way out of the ghetto. I do mean fought. Where she went to high school, the girls used to take it to each other with razorblades around the lunch table. She doesn't talk about it but I know from her brothers that she put her father in the hospital with a baseball bat when she was twelve. She caught him "hittin' up" on the youngest.

Once, a parent of one of her wardies came to school drunk and made the mistake of walking into her classroom and threatening the child. She very calmly and pleasantly asked him to lower his voice and speak to her in the hall.

It was a Friday and since I'm the biggest guy at the school they came to get me. When I got there this 250 pound guy who looked like a wrestler was lying on the ground just outside the doors of the school holding his crotch and looking scared to death. Apparently the poor chump tried to put his hands on her. I don't know what she did and I don't want to know. The thing I saw in Variety's eyes that day I am not anxious to see again.

However, being the fun guy that I am, I like playing with fire.

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