Here are some thoughts on them.
- As as adult I looked at some of the kids in my class a little differently. I befriended some kids that at the time I saw as not as smart as I was. One was the only hispanic kid in the class, permanently set apart culturally. And I don't think his home life was very good. Another picture was taken at a recital thing. the whole grade had learned the recorder and then were supposed to perform for their parents. Everyone was wearing white shirts except one kid on the front row. If I remember correctly I helped him out a lot in fourth grade with stuff. That non-white shirt though, told me today that his home life probably wasn't very good either. Not enough parental involvement.
- Looking at the kids in my classes, some that were only in elementary with me and others who I remember all the way through senior year kind of makes me want to know what happened to them. (But probably not enough to do anything about it).
- I was still me. There are pictures of me playing in the dirt and reading and standing next to my art pieces hanging on the wall.
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