The deeper I go into the memory hole, the less I trust my own recollections. There’s a text that talks about discovering in Los Angeles, that the woman I had tutored in Mathematics in fifth grade was the daughter of one of the accused coup leaders of 1975.
Later, I wondered, why didn’t I know this in 1985 when I tutored her? Why did it take so long for that bit of vital information to surface? Of course I called up my mother and said, why didn’t you tell me this (the tutoring assignment came through her), and she said, “I didn’t think it was relevant.”
It wasn’t relevant to tutoring mathematics, it’s true.
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