Mom stood near the photo wall, drink in hand, pointing proudly at a framed shot of my younger brother. My dad stood beside her, beaming. The caption below read, “Bryce Dorsey, Valedictorian, Harvard, Class of 2009.”

There was no picture of me. Not one. I’d been class president, orchestra chair, and founder of the international relations club, but you wouldn’t know it. You’d think I never existed.