On the night I made the mistake, I had no idea I was doing anything wrong. I was clueless. Even arrogant. Within five or six years, though, I had grown enough — and learned enough about myself — that I had to apologize to someone for that night.
It was about 15 years ago. I was getting to know a woman who I’d recently met. We would go on to date seriously and almost marry. But on that night, we were still getting to know each other. She had graduated from college with an education degree and was about to start teaching. But I thought she was too smart and too capable for teaching school.
I don’t remember how I worded it, but I let her know that I thought she would be wasting herself if that’s what she did with her life. I let her know that she was capable of far more than that — and I subtly made it clear that I would prefer she did something more “impressive.”
I was more concerned that night with what I wanted her to be than with what she wanted. My mind was focused on how her choice would reflect on me. I was blind to my error at the time, but I’m ashamed of it now.

Happy birthday to the monkeys; we’re marking two years today
Black? White? Brown? Santa Claus is any color you want to make him
People who confront harsh reality are ones who survive bad times
Dear Donald Trump: Want a deal? You can buy my transcripts cheap
Ten years later, it hurts to know she lost faith in me and gave up
The Fourth Amendment? Hmmmm. No, we’ve never heard of that one
Why do presidents and candidates bother to release tax returns?
Biases teach us what to expect, but we often turn out to be wrong