Raymond, Are You Out There?

In fifth grade, I had a teacher named Mrs. Dunham. She was a vivacious middle-aged divorcée who dyed her hair blonde and liked to talk about her adult children. She also had an imaginary student named Murgatroyd that she would often reference if he was “doing something well” or “wasn’t following instructions.”

At one point in the school year, she told us a story about a student named Raymond. He was not one of her…