He took three of hisfriends, but Mike and I weren’t invited. They told us we weren’t invitedbecause we were poor kids.”“They did?” my dad asked incredulously.“Yeah, they did,” I replied in a hurt tone.My dad silently shook his head, pushed his glasses up the bridge of hisnose, and went back to reading the paper. I stood waiting for an answer.The year was 1956. I was nine years old. By some twist of fate, Iattended the same public school where the rich people sent their kids. Wewere primarily a sugar-plantation town. The managers of the plantation andthe other affluent people, such as doctors, business owners, and bankers,sent their children to this elementary school. After grade six, their childrenwere generally sent off to private schools. Because my family lived on oneside of the street, I went to this school. Had I lived on the other side of thestreet, I would have gone to a different school with kids from families more
Question
He took three of hisfriends, but Mike and I weren’t invited. They told us we weren’t invitedbecause we were poor kids.”“They did?” my dad asked incredulously.“Yeah, they did,” I replied in a hurt tone.My dad silently shook his head, pushed his glasses up the bridge of hisnose, and went back to reading the paper. I stood waiting for an answer.The year was 1956. I was nine years old. By some twist of fate, Iattended the same public school where the rich people sent their kids. Wewere primarily a sugar-plantation town. The managers of the plantation andthe other affluent people, such as doctors, business owners, and bankers,sent their children to this elementary school. After grade six, their childrenwere generally sent off to private schools. Because my family lived on oneside of the street, I went to this school. Had I lived on the other side of thestreet, I would have gone to a different school with kids from families more
Solution
"He took three of his friends, but Mike and I weren't invited. They told us we weren't invited because we were poor kids."
"They did?" my dad asked incredulously.
"Yeah, they did," I replied in a hurt tone.
My dad silently shook his head, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and went back to reading the paper. I stood waiting for an answer.
The year was 1956. I was nine years old. By some twist of fate, I attended the same public school where the rich people sent their kids. We were primarily a sugar-plantation town. The managers of the plantation and the other affluent people, such as doctors, business owners, and bankers, sent their children to this elementary school. After grade six, their children were generally sent off to private schools. Because my family lived on one side of the street, I went to this school. Had I lived on the other side of the street, I would have gone to a different school with kids from families more affluent.
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