True story: I had just arrived at college in a small town and the first few weeks of classes were in full swing. One of the mandatory courses was taught my a rather famous, young hippie professor who encouraged a lot of group interaction and discussion of the humanities. My college was small, an intentional choice that played to my love of challenging academics combined with a free spirited embrace of rural, outdoorsy life. The classes were small too, this humanities course had just 12 people in it, mostly freshmen and some sophomores who had put off part of the core curriculum as long as they could. Over the twice-weekly class meetings I found myself always in deep discussions with a few particular people, one who stood out was Jaime. She came from a small town in a nearby state and at 5’4″ had a petite, runner’s build with sandy brown hair and big blue eyes that made you want to spill your deepest thoughts when she looked at you in class, and could make the shyest of guys smile when she’d wave at you in the quad. She was a sweet, gentle girl who helped at an animal charity in her free time and played on the college women’s soccer team.