I attended the wedding of my son, whom I raised as a single father, but my nameplate said, Low-educated fake dad

I stood at the back of the glittering ballroom, tugging at the sleeves of my suit that never fit quite right. My son’s wedding day. For twenty years, I had dreamed of this moment, ever since his mother walked out and left me to raise him alone. I worked two jobs—fixing pipes by day, delivering…