How do you know you belong? For my eight-year-old self, it was simple: Did I have friends who sat with me at lunch? Was there a Power Ranger who looked like me? Did I get to eat at McDonald’s on my birthday? Gratefully, thankfully, those juvenile hallmarks of belonging were all I needed when I was growing up; my parents shielded me from feeling like I didn’t belong, and from the worst consequences of not belonging.