“The devil couldn’t reach me, so he…” He did. He waited. He slowly poisoned my veins until I couldn’t tell the difference between fear and love. He made me forget what peace felt like. He convinced me that love always came with pain, that people always leave, that silence meant something was wrong, and that “forever” was just another word people used before they walked away. He taught me that I had to become smaller to be loved, so I did. I became quieter. Colder. Harder to reach. I laughed with

Go Back to School: Why Basic Education Matters