 And about this time each year, I think of Alice Camp. I arrived in her third grade classroom in Lewisboro Elementary School in South Salem, New York, as an extremely short, shy, insecure, eight-year-old who was often bullied and mocked on the bus and made to feel like a loser on the playground and had no particular interest in school. But she saw in me something I didn't see. She fed me books, projects, and ideas. She challenged me and praised me. She made me feel special. She didn't mind if I stayed in at recess and barraged her with questions. Her enjoyment of literature made it okay for me to love books. She made me understand that I wasn't a freak, that I might even be talented. And there was no reason for me to be so sad and ashamed, so fearful, so alone in the world. I think of Mrs. Camp when I see America's teachers blamed these days for almost everything. Yelled at by parents over masks, reprimanded by school boards about books they assigned or let their students read, vilified by politicians for teaching about America's history of racism, even told to arm themselves against the possibility that their classrooms will be invaded by murderous young men with semi-automatics. Instead of berating our teachers, we should honor them. Rather than impose ludicrous demands on them, we should free them to teach and inspire. Instead of demeaning them, we should express our gratitude to them every day. And we should pay them at least twice as much as they are earning, or three times. Why in hell should investment bankers get paid fortunes from moving money from one set of pockets to another when our teachers can barely afford to live on what they make? Bankers watch over our financial capital, teachers watch over our precious human capital, and therefore our future. I never saw Alice Camp again after a third grade ended for me that June of 1954. I never had a chance to thank her. She passed away long ago. I had the great fortune to have other wonderful teachers over the rest of my years of public elementary and high school and then in college and graduate school. I don't recall thanking any of them either, but I do think of them often and I am forever in their debt. I can't imagine a more rewarding or noble profession.