My body produced a human being who got an “F” in one of his subject classes when he was in fifth grade. I held the report card with hands that shook and said to my spouse, “I never got an F. You never got an F. We produced a child who got an F.”

That child, who’d overheard what I’d said, entered the room.

He looked at me and said, “That F doesn’t stand for ‘failure.’ It stands for FIGHT. All I did, all year long, was fight with that teacher.”