A storm is approaching, I noticed as I looked helplessly out the window. It was a crisp autumn day, the falling leaves looked so lifeless and wilted. This was my life, boring, meaningless; a habitual and humble routine that does not generate sparks of interest. There was a movie from the 90s, the only movie I had ever seen up to that point in my life, where the main character says that "living in Endora is like dancing to music." I guess this applies to my life too. “Daniel? Would you like to answer that question?" the teacher asked. I vaguely remembered that he thought of himself as Dr. Smith, or Dr. Smythe, or some other common, anonymous surname. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," I replied, wondering why on earth he would picked the guy who didn't disrupt his class in any way. “That's right, that wasn't the case. Don't make me call your parents again! You have a doctorate, I thought, what the hell are you doing tutoring a bunch of second graders? elementary spoiled and rowdy and you expect them to listen? The last threat made me tense. I became aware of the twenty or so pairs of eyes probing and probing at my head. They were all so well-groomed, their hair and their teeth they were in excellent condition, and they were all impeccably dressed: with their freshly pressed shirts tucked into their stainless gray shorts and their black school shoes that were so shiny that I could see my reflection in them – a reflection so contrasting, that I would rather delete it from my memory. I didn't fit in here, it wasn't my place. I felt like Oliver Twist living in the 19th century English upper class. I felt as strange as a three dollar bill. And that bitter feeling of rejection, perhaps of segregation, from... to the center of the paper... to the shoulder. Then he waited. Finally he spoke in his soothing voice: “I do my best to make ends meet. We, as a family, struggle with our mortgage, with grocery costs, with utility costs. I work extra shifts, I work 7 days, I have no rest, I have no holidays. I do it because I love you. I do it because I care about you. I do this because I want you to learn, thrive and not end up like me, driving taxis for money. Don't let others judge you for who you are, let others judge who you are, your characteristics and your abilities." And with that he left for work. I never saw my father in the same light again. I had been selfish, I hadn't seen the struggles of others, and I had taken what I had for granted. Looking back on that day, I could see that I had something to be proud of in my father, because he showed an endless amount of love, commitment and devotion.