My Classmates Mocked Me for Being a Garbage Collector’s Son – on Graduation Day, I Said Something They’ll Never Forget
By the time I turned eighteen, I could identify my childhood by scent alone—diesel fumes, bleach, and the sour tang of old trash bags. My world had been shaped by a woman in a neon vest climbing onto the back of a garbage truck before dawn. My mom once imagined a different life. She’d been…