Public schools in my neighborhood were rough: my friend’s brother was stabbed through the hand with a pencil in third grade. So my parents enrolled me in this small private school on Long Island that seemed to cater to wealthy European and Asian families who were in the country for short periods of time on business and, oddly, the rest of the students were local middle-class kids. So, when you were invited to a birthday party, you really never knew what you were going to get. Would it be a mobile petting zoo and bespoke cupcakes or pin the tail on the donkey and a sheet cake from the local
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