Janice Galloway at school

I’m reading All Made Up, Janice Galloway’s second volume of autobiography. It’s her as a teenager, discovering music and Latin and boys, while negotiating a dysfuntional family set-up comprising her, her mum and her unforgiving elder sister. So the generous altrusim of her music teacher comes as a special blessing:

“Mr. Hetherington made learning not only desirable but attainable. It was there for us, not the other way round. Teachers mattered more than subject divisions and, in these teachers, I was kissed with unearned, scarcely believable, fit-to-bust luck.”