When I was a little girl, there were two women in my life (besides my mom) who I thought were the greatest people on earth. They elicited cheers and excitement at the possibility of seeing them. The first was Wonder Woman—more on her in a bit. The second was my sister’s first-grade teacher, Ms. Garcia. When I was four years old, I used to sit in sometimes on my sister’s class. When I arrived, Ms. Garcia would take my hand and walk me to a desk in the back where she’d let me watch, and once in a while participate in, her reading and arithmetic lessons. I loved it when she gave me worksheets with letters and numbers on them to trace, just like the big kids, and encouraged me to keep perfecting them across the page. I wasn’t in her classroom every day, but I was there often, and every time I loved it. I didn’t learn until much later that Ms. Garcia was doing my mom a huge favor. My mother worked in the school and occasionally had no child care for me. Ms. Garcia was letting me into her classroom, at a bit of a risk, to help out my mother.