By Betty Wallach“There he is! Drag that suspended MF’er out of her room! How’d he get in the building?” Security shouted this in the hallway before unlocking the back door of my Brooklyn classroom and dragging Michael away. It turned out that he’d been suspended, but had sneaked back to attend my high school English class because he didn’t want to miss what we’d been reading.“All he does is sleep! Why waste your time on him? Give up!” Richard often did sleep in junior English, but for a…
