Juan stood at the heel of the concrete walkway, undulating in the September heat like a serpent’s tongue, and peered hard at the entrance way to the two-story, red brick building that lay before him, beckoning him with promises of ecstasy and agony, but mostly agony.

The voices of freshly-minted teenagers surrounded him. “LaTanya, you best be gettin’ yo azz over here”, he heard one girl cry happily to her friend.

“Shortie, getz out of my way” said a male voice gruffly, hovering in that octave range between childhood and manhood. He startled at the voice, turning toward it fearfully with what he hoped was his most engaging smile, but in moments of panic resembled the smile of the Joker in the Batman comic series. The speaker, however, was addressing a classmate.

Juan was diminutive and smart for his age; two qualities that made him a target for every bully. He adjusted his book-laden backpack, and trudged slowly forward, as if shackled on a chain gang, to his first day in a new school.