Featured Articles
The False Claims for Austerity
Paul Krugman
Why did the austerians get such a powerful grip on elite opinion in the first place?
The Saga of the Flaming Zucchini
Jenny Uglow
Bee Wilson’s 'Consider the Fork: A History of How We Cook and Eat'
How to Succeed in Business
Anne Applebaum
Sheryl Sandberg's 'Lean In' and Hanna Rosin's 'The End of Men'
What Is Autism?
Jerome Groopman
I never learned to type. The best I can do is hunt and peck with two fingers while looking at the keyboard. Instead of touch-typing, I was taught how to work with metal: shape flashings, solder wires, drill into tin. My fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. L., divided the class into those able to undertake a so-called “academic curriculum” and ultimately attend college, and those like me, only fit for vocational training, destined to work in factories or repair shops. Mrs. L. made clear to us what marked a promising student: neat penmanship, proper posture, and sharp attention to her lessons. It did not take her long to conclude that I lacked all of these indicators.
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