Education Strategy

There’s an old oak tree down on Miss Frances’s farm that requires more than a few minutes of inspection every time you lay eyes on it. You need to be a good 100 feet away from the thing to see its top, and when you sidle your back next to the massive trunk and tilt your head up, not one speck of the sky trickles through the gnarled branches and acorn laden leaves. It’s one of those natural wonders that makes you feel small in all sorts of ways.

“I figger that tree’s been aroun’ longer than anyone’s been by to see it,” Miss Frances notes, turning subtly in her rusted metal rocker to deposit a lip full of brown spittle into a 7Up bottle she’s been carrying around. She’s 91, her fac

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