"Look around," the school official said in a stern voice, almost daring the assembled crowd of incoming sixth-grade students and parents. It was the summer of 1986, and I was sitting in a hot auditorium with my mother and my brother, Joaquin, nervously waiting to start the new school year. "Statistically, the chances are that up to half of you won't be here when it's time to graduate from the eighth grade." Those were infamous last words.Original Article