I was just recently reminded of an incident that happened when I was in the 4th grade. As with most of my childhood stories, it starts with me starting at a new school. I was sitting in my new English class and my teacher had just introduced me to the class. He went on to tell me that there was a book report due the following week. He said it was an oral report and not only was it an oral report, but the students had to dress up as a character from their book while delivering their report. With a smile he told me that, because I was new, I could just turn in a paper and not worry about the oral part or dressing up. The first week at a new school was always the hardest. I like to think of it in terms of talking about my wife. When I talk about my wife I hate using the term, “my wife.” It’s like she is a possession or something, like, “my car.” When I first...
