I sat in the dean’s office. I can hear the two kids who had been pulled out of their classes just outside the door talking to each other before the dean gets back from whatever he was doing. They’re asking each other, “Do you know why we’re here?” “I have no idea, do you?” Life was pretty good as a senior, with an exception or two. This group shot of seniors is from the yearbook. My speech disability was always an easy target for other kids. Senior year, these two kids mumbled every time I opened my mouth in English class. I knew these guys. Hell, I was friendly with one of them, and knew the other one well enough to say “What’s up?” to. I was visibly upset one day after class and the resource room staff found out what was going on. I was absolutely ready to fight these kids. I end up in the dean’s office. My English teacher happened to be in the outer office and joined the meeting after the dean returned. She admits she had no idea what was going on. We sat in the front row of
