Whoever the kid had been, whoever had had the grand attitude, has finally heeded the admonishment of parents, teachers, governments, religions, and the law: "You just change your attitude now please, young man."

I used to be the fastest telegram messenger boy in all Fresno. My nickname was "Speed." Finally, I said, "Take back your nickname. This pace is killing me." Anyway, I still write fast -- it's my impatient Armenian nature. I'm keen to find out how my plots end, and if I write faster I'll find out sooner.

She's responsible for a major attitude adjustment among the teachers on the team. She is as much of a core teacher as any of us. Many inclusion teachers are the odd man out who only cater to a few students. But for our team, she has changed that image. She is integral. We could not function without her.

A number of families who attended Eighth Street are back as parents and teachers now. It seems that it is very common amongst people coming home - Ashley and I are not unique in that regard. Our parents instilled in us a sense of connection when we were young. It's great to see our daughter go to our school and encounter that feeling of comfort and camaraderie, that feeling of home.

[I asked some experienced parents what they do about this. They endorse the view of the best principals and teachers: Whatever the resistance, do your best to talk the problem out with the people at the school. Dick and Karen Reed, who have had two daughters in Fairfax County schools, say a face-to-face meeting with the teacher and the relevant administrator is best. You have to make sure the meeting does not end until the problem is defined and a solution agreed upon. Then, and this is the part that I was too lazy ever to try, the Reeds compose a summary of the discussion and the agreement and send it to the educators.] I don't accept corrections or edits from them, ... I do offer to meet again if they wish to change something.

Nay! surely it is an admonishment.