If you had asked me what worried me most about my son, I would not have said his grades.
Teachers adored him. His report cards always came back with little handwritten notes in the margins, things like “a pleasure to teach” and “thoughtful beyond his years.”
He had always been one of the smartest kids in school.
But none of that protected him from the part of high school I could not reach.
The Lunch Table He Faced Alone
I still remember sitting across from Mrs. Carter at the parent-teacher conference back in October.
She had folded her hands carefully before she spoke.
“Sarah, Nathan is one of the brightest students I’ve ever had,” she said.
“But?”
“But he eats lunch alone most days. I just thought you should know.”
I nodded. I smiled. I held myself together until I got to my car.
Then I cried for 20 minutes in the school parking lot.
