There is a story about myself which I don’t enjoy telling. As a matter of fact, believe it or not, I don’t much like to talk about my own strange history. But my husband gives me cues. We were having a pleasant luncheon with a person with whom we wanted to have a working relationship. Since it was mostly business and financial, and I have never claimed such things to be my “strong suit,” my husband did most of the talking. I think the person we were with, although he said little, wondered at least a little if I were clever enough to do the scientific and medical part of the consulting we were talking about. So my husband said it.
“Tell him about when you got expelled from 4th grade.”
Nobody asked my age, but after some precocious grade-skipping, I was, as far as I can figure, 8 going on 9. I was in a local public school, in a city where the school system was of very low repute. My father of blessed memory had done a little substitute teaching several years before, and the superintendent of schools was a “friend of the family.” Read more on How The Gifted Child Got Expelled…