A Strange Kind of Tag Day
As I sat down for breakfast in the dining hall at Kent Academy, the air was filled with the chitter-chatter of two hundred boarding school kids. At my seat, a piece of paper two inches square, lay on the tablecloth. Each of my tablemates had one beside their plate, too. The dorm Uncle’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “The red card at your seat is called a tag. Today the staff in every section will be watching you closely during…