I often feel as though I am shuffling onto the stage of my children’s education in the manner of Mr. Seymour. On one side of the wormhole is the stuff of the public K-12 schools I attended in the nineteen-eighties and nineties: chalkboards and Scantrons, film strips and secondhand Signet Classics, and big, battered textbooks in grocery-bag slipcovers, passed down from student to student, year upon year.