When we can look back at the events of our past and embrace them for being the perfect training ground for who we are today, then we can begin to be the authors of our own lives.
Nancy called my father, complaining that the school van never came to pick up her kids. It didn’t take long for my father to realize what I had done . . .
My voice of insecurity whispered: perhaps if we were lower key he'd be less hostile? Is our Jewish pride fueling his anti-Semitism? On the other hand, why should I compromise my identity as a Jew to appease his racist rage?