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When I entered the Hanna Perkins preschool in the 1970s, I was more than a little afraid. I’m sure I clung to my mother as you might to a tree in a tsunami. My father had just died, and throughout my childhood a separation or an unfamiliar place would often stir up a tragic feeling.

The first thing I remember about Hanna Perkins is that I had no need to hide such feelings there. Like the big world into which I ...