When Mandy handed me the first draft of her Class Orator speech, my initial and audible reaction was, “Mandy, I don’t think you can deliver this speech.” Confused and crestfallen, as she had worked so hard to follow my directions (speak from your heart, capture the voice of your classmates, write with pride, show me your drafts), Mandy wondered why I had reacted this way. I went on to tell her that indeed she had followed all of my directions. I told her the speech was truly powerful; deeply moving; it resonated with her own voice and the voice of her peers. She and I had not talked at all about what she might write. I told her this speech was hers and that I would help in any way I could, but the seeds should come from her. I told her to try a draft and show it to me when it was complete. Here she was, standing at my desk, full of eager anticipation for my reaction. “Mandy,” I said, “I am afraid everyone will think I wrote this speech.” Mandy’s speech was captivating. She chose not to relive her grade- and middle school days with her peers. She