Word: graded
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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What drives this blue-collar philanthropist? One spur is his own thwarted desire for higher education. Growing up the fifth of seven children in Shreveport, he had to drop out of school after seventh grade to help support his family. "I always wanted to better myself," says Dawson, "but I came up in the Depression. I had to work...
...time my daughter was in grade school, Title IX had kicked in. I found myself becoming a soccer mom before pollsters knew there was such a thing. Courtney became a Stoddert Stomper, playing on the team at the neighborhood school. There she was in a bright gold mesh-and-Lycra uniform, shoes with cleats. Much of the time, it wasn't pretty; the kids all went where the ball was. They were sprinting, passing, lunging and kicking with abandon, just like the boys. I stood there amazed. A child I hardly recognized as my own hurled herself toward the goal...
...sixth grade, when we were given a choice of 20 books and were required to read three, I read all 20--even the one that wasn't suitable for our school library to carry...
These are my best friends from kindergarten and elementary school. Together we have lived through class bullies and tyrannical teachers, and have bonded through numerous birthday parties and family gatherings. These are also the friends from whom I have been virtually separated since fifth grade, when I left Hong Kong to live in Houston, Texas. But it is not simply that I had left my friends behind; during those years, everyone who had the means to were leaving Hong Kong in fear of the handover in 1997. Our group of friends gradually became scattered to all corners of the world...
...just done with seventh grade, and had returned to my birthplace of New York City after a year's life in Texas. I visited a friend, and he showed me his CD player. It was a gray, futuristic affair that inspired awe (I still grin when I look at similar setups). But I just wanted the CD player because I'd seen and used one, and I thought it was cooler than a tape player. I mean, really, any given CD looked more artistic than a cassette. It had paint already on it. The cover was art, sure, but when...