A baby boy is born, a precious gift to his mother and father. As he enters pre-K, he is overjoyed helping his classmates and modeling — as they develop at a different pace than their peers — what learning and playing in school looks and sounds like. But when he gets to kindergarten, his teacher doesn’t see his gifts. She is intent on making him comply. She places two names — the only two black boys in the class — on a behavior chart, moving down a clip each time either does something “bad.” I am the mother of two black boys. This narrative is the lived experience of my older son, and I was the assistant principal of his school. I bring this awareness