Picture this: After math class where I raise the mean age of the students to 25, rush hour driving down the heart of black New Haven, Dixwell Ave., in a bigass banged up Nissan truck that gets 1 mile to the gallon while blasting Dylan and Marvin Gaye on my way home before going to my first Rosh Hashanah dinner. Thinking about my beloved 6 year old niece, who goes to St. Whozit School of the Exculpatory Distraction and tells me 2 weeks into 1st grade that 2 girls said she's weird.
To which I say, never stop. Stay weird.
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