“I hate school,” I said. Just uttering the word made my soup bubble up at the back of my throat, a sick, nauseous feeling. “Do you really hate school? Because I know you don’t hate to learn.” “I really hate it.” I swallowed once, and then told her what they called me, told her it was just like every school I’d ever been to, that I was singled out, labeled, watched, and never taught.
