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At my daughter’s new school, kids with learning disabilities aren’t square pegs

A young girl seated at a desk and raising her hand.

“Mom, do I look like a dead chicken?” asked my 11-year-old daughter in all seriousness on our way to her new school. I looked over, and she’s in what vaguely resembles a rotisserie chicken pose: arms folded in and feet curled up to her chest. Together, we laughed.

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