From 1963 to 1970 I attended Ainsworth Grade School high in the rarefied air of Portland’s West Hills. This venerable ivied institution was nestled comfortably in an enclave of beautiful old homes that were all larger than need be and occupied by generations of the original owners. Ainsworth was like every other grade school in so far as there were lots of children in wildly disparate stages of physical, mental, and emotional development. It was unlike most other grade schools in so far as the vast majority of students were in line to inherit houses that were larger than they needed to be. And probably unlike other grade schools in many other ways but I wouldn’t know because I didn’t go to them.