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I was born and raised in Southern California, attending a private, Catholic school from first through eighth grade. Never once did I think of myself as elite or different. That was school, a place I went Monday through Friday for hours when I could have been doing what any normal child does, climbing trees, figuring out ways to drive my parents nuts, or riding my bike, without safety gear since we didn’t even know what that was in the 1960s. We made hopscotch’s on the sidewalk with chalk and played for hours. Riding a bike up and down a sidewalk was often accompanied by jump ramps where we attempted to fly beyond gravity to reach the moon, like the astronauts we so admired. Skateboards whizzing past were not unheard of, again without safety equipment. Sure, we skinned knees and elbows and bumped heads but we were up and running within the few minutes it took our mothers to clean up the mess and advise us to ‘be more careful next time’.