|I might have taken away this one too late.|
I can't get these words out of my head today. They're from Six Degrees of Separation, a beautiful play by John Guare about art and New York and money and class and race.
"I remembered asking my kids' second-grade teacher: 'Why are all your students geniuses? Look at the first grade—blotches of green and black. The third grade—camouflage. But your grade, the second grade, Matisses, every one. You've made my child a Matisse. Let me study with you. Let me into the second grade. What is your secret?' 'I don't have any secret. I just know when to take their drawings away from them.'"