"None of the therapy students were girls. They were all boys like me who kept movie star scrapbooks and made their own curtains…. We knocked ourselves out trying to fit in but were ultimately betrayed by our tongues. At the beginning of the school year, while we were congratulating ourselves on successfully passing for normal, Agent Samson [the speech therapist] was taking names as our assembled teachers raised their hands, saying, ‘I've got one in my homeroom,’ and ‘There are two in my fourth-period math class.’ Were they also able to spot the future drunks and depressives? Did they hope that by eliminating our lisps, they might set us on a different path, or were they trying to prepare us for future stage and choral careers?"