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When I was in fourth grade, I won our school’s spelling bee. This meant that I went on to the next tier of the local spelling world — the sort of prestigious competition that takes place in a gymnasium somewhere with a makeshift stage and a bunch of flags.
I was the first kid disqualified. I misspelled veterinarian “veterenarian” and battlement “battlemint.” I remember feeling, in the moment the announcer said, …
