A boy called Noah was the youngest in his group by almost a year. The others were allowed to do things he wasn't, knew things he didn't, and sometimes — not meanly, just thoughtlessly — talked over him or said "you're too young to get it." Lately Noah had started believing it. He'd stopped offering ideas. When something needed doing that he could easily have done, he'd hang back, assuming he wasn't up to it. The "too young" label had quietly moved from being something others said to something he said about himself. Then one day the group got stuck on something Noah actually knew how to fix. He had the answer right there. The only thing in the way was the voice in his own head saying he was too young to be the one who solved it.