In first grade I remember two boys fighting. As I tried to get passed them one of the boys landed on me. The result, one broken leg and not being allowed back at that school. The "school" believed I should go to The Little Red Schoolhouse (a school for crippled children).
My parents didn't take this lightly. They wanted me to go to public school. The search ensued and my family uprooted and moved to a town that graciously accepted me into their school.
My sisters were older and I'm sure they felt as though their lives were being torn apart and it wasn't fair. I would think there would be resentment there. We've never discussed their feelings about this. I am extremely grateful for their sacrifices.