It was a lifesaver. I went through it. I remember, distinctly, going from 'why am I here with all these other kids who just want to stare at the wall or play wi

It was a lifesaver. I went through it. I remember, distinctly, going from 'why am I here with all these other kids who just want to stare at the wall or play with G.I. Joes or stack rings' to an immense sense of relief when there was a bit more structure, a bit more freedom to choose what to do, etc. But more importantly, when I wanted to understand or ask about some existential question, my teacher didn't say "oh that's cute kid, don't worry about it, just go be a kid and play with your friends." They took me seriously, chatted with me through my questions, and treated me like I wasn't a complete idiot, even though I was a child. That made all the difference. And even more importantly, asking those questions didn't make me a pariah; instead, the other kids had those questions too, and we all learned from each other and grew. If this sounds a bit absurd, I assure you I knew it then; I literally wrote about it in my journal in second grade.