“Um…” Kassim looks panicked, like he’s taking a pop quiz and is afraid he might give the wrong answer. “Jordan?” I lean forward and fist-bump him, winking. “That’s my boy.” Kassim beams and sits up taller in his chair. It’s crazy how he flourishes under the slightest praise I give him. His confidence is so easily bolstered. I guess that’s what a father’s unconditional love and acceptance should do for a boy.
