I have a vivid memory of an incident in my kindergarten class. It changed my life, and not for the better. It was innocuous, something that happens every day. The teacher asked a question, and the pupils raised their hands, accompanied by enthusiastic cries of “I know,” and “Pick me.” She selected an eager boy who blurted out the wrong answer. The backlash was immediate. The students laughed, they pointed fingers, and someone called him stupid. I will never forget his expression. I almost cried. It mortified our teacher, and she valiantly attempted to correct the misbehavior. The damage was done. He never volunteered to answer another question. Neither did I.

School became a minefield requiring strategic planning to evade embarrassment, shame, and the ridicule of my peers. I was luckier than some. I had taught myself to read before I started kindergarten, and it was a pattern I continued…