Day in the Life of an Idiot

I was in a spot much like Mason's, in the first and second grade living in Rio de Janeiro. There was an English language school, the Escola Americana (and note that this is Portuguese -- there are a lot of otherwise intelligent people out there who are firmly convinced that they speak Spanish in Brazil) and I was told not to read anything beyond the second or third grade as it would be too advanced. Meanwhile, I was reading adult science fiction magazines and novels at home. (My parents went through a science fiction kick, without which I might very well never have become a fan.) What wound up happening was that I eventually decided to ignore the library and the librarian completely and just read whatever my parents brought home. This decision made it impossible for me to be traumatized by the narrow-mindedness of school staff, as I was ignoring them completely. Then there were two years in Rosario, Argentina, where the only English language library was in the school where my father taught (so no problem checking out whatever I wanted), and then to Vashon Island, Washington, where we all went to the library together, and if a book or two I wanted was officially "adult," my parents would check it out. (The main librarian's daughter, who became a friend of mine, was also quite bright.) If there is anything to learn from this, it is as follows: You don't need the library; you don't need the librarian; you and Mason can make an end-run around those. I made the end run and it worked. (And sending him to the library or to the drugstore book rack with enough money to buy one or two books will be a realistic plan of attack in a couple of years; you'll be the judge of when he's ready.)

Nate