When I was fifteen, I found a way to get out of class for weeks on end. It wasn’t just to skip school that I organized a fundraising disco for charity. I’d had a fun experience at my first ever school disco when I was thirteen, and I wanted the younger boys to experience something similar. Plus, we’d recently completed our first state exams, so class wasn’t quite as focussed as it had been. I had a written permission slip from the headmaster which I produced any time a frustrated teacher questioned why I had missed yet another class. And my excuses were pretty good: