By Miriam M. Brysk and Joanne D. Gilbert
Would you believe it’s been 70 years since I walked across the stage to receive my eighth-grade diploma in January of 1949? Funny how even though I’ve never talked about it with anyone, I still remember it as if it were yesterday . . .
Wearing my beautiful white dress and a lovely orchid corsage, I stood silent, alone, and self-conscious, as usual, never quite part of the group.These care-free all-American kids were just going through a regular phase in their regular all-American lives. And even though I’dfinallyfigured out how to dress, walk, and evenalmosttalk like them — under the surface, way down where it really counted, we had nothing in common. I was pretty sure that they were all superficial, and totally lacking in any understanding of real life.
Especially my real life.
To them, I was a quiet…
View original post 590 more words