Qualske

My daughter’s teacher made 30 graduating seniors sit cross-legged on the classroom carpet on their last day of school. At first, my daughter thought she was joking. “You started kindergarten sitting on a rug listening to stories,” the teacher explained. “So you’re going to finish the same way.” These were 18-year-olds who drove cars, held jobs, and were preparing to leave home. Yet there they were, sitting on the floor like little kids again. Then their teacher read them one final book: Oh, the Places You’ll Go! No exams. No long speech about adulthood. Just a children’s book reminding them that life was about to begin.