Turns out, I’m a broken person. I’m one of those people, like so many of us, with wounds I don’t even know I have that fester beneath the surface. Some of them are physical. Who knows what tears in my ligaments or clogs in my arteries remain unresolved beneath my...
Room 212 has no windows. There’s no sunlight breaking through the blinds, warming my students in its brightness. There are no views of Pikes Peak or of the leaves changing outside. Still, I’ve found beauty there. That classroom has been my home base, the setting...
“Please help me,” I prayed. I was overwhelmed. Hundreds of teenagers loaded onto the buses slapping high fives, texting friends, checking snapchat accounts. To them, the bus was their transport into adventure. To me, it felt like a C-130 airplane, and...
STORIES OF HOPE
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