Chapter Three: Then

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Four Months Ago...

"I just think adding art therapy to our after school program would be a great addition to our school! We could open it up to the community, see if there are any takers

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"I just think adding art therapy to our after school program would be a great addition to our school! We could open it up to the community, see if there are any takers. I'm sure it'll be a hit!"

Mrs. Boers looks at me bored. From where she sits behind her desk, she seems like a giant. And I am a child being called to the principal's office, only two feet tall.

After a beat, she leans back in her chair and lets out a deep breath, "We already offer an after school program, Ms. Peters. One that offers tutoring and homework. One hundred and twenty-three students attend. Do you really think you have enough of a draw with your, what was it? Art. Therapy? To justify hiring you on?"

"Absolutely!" It's a lie, I have no idea if this part of LA is trendy enough to go for an art therapy program. But I'm desperate for money. Eloise hasn't had a steady income since I moved here four months ago and I'm running out of my savings trying to cover her half of the rent. This art therapy idea is the only thing I've got. 

And, luckily, Mrs. Boers seems to be buying into it. 

"What exactly would you do as an art therapist?" She inquires. 

"Well, I'd have workshops where students could learn how to channel their feelings with simple art techniques. We'd work on using art as a tool to cope with emotions we don't quite understand. Art can be used to boost focus, understanding, and even empathy. It's not just something for students with special needs, but also everyday kids who need someone to be there for them."

"How much would you charge for your services?" 

I feel my heart flutter with hope at the question. "Just $10 a kid a day. It's a steal, really. Especially since we're already charging parents $45 a child a day for our afterschool program."

"Will that be enough for you? Let's say you have 10 kids sign up for the program. That's $100 a day for 3 hours of your time. You'd only pocket half of that, as the rest would go to the school and supplies. That's less than $15 an hour. You could make that working at McDonald's."

"With all due respect, Mrs. Boer, I don't want to work at McDonald's. I want to work here. I think the students could really use us. Don't you? And, who knows. Maybe we'll attract more people. People in the community who need us. The school needs the money just as much as I do."

"You're not wrong about that." She sighs. "Alright, Peters. We'll try it out. When's the soonest you'll be able to start?"

 When's the soonest you'll be able to start?"

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