When I was five-and-a-half years old, we moved from Southern California to Montana where I started the first grade. I’d made friends in kindergarten but in Montana, I now had to make new ones and it wasn’t easy. But I did well there. I even became a minor hero in my class, gaining respect among the kids. And just about the time it looked like my star was about to ascend in Montana, my family moved again, this time to Oakland, California, and once more I had to start over. I remember well my first day in second grade at the new school, where I was viewed by the kids with suspicion and reserve.
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