MY FOSTER CARE TEACHER BELIEVED I COULD BECOME A DOCTOR—YEARS LATER, SHE HANDED ME SOMETHING THAT BROKE ME COMPLETELY

myself. She taught me how to write essays when my life felt too painful to explain on paper. Whenever I didn’t have a safe or quiet place to study, she opened her classroom door and let me stay as long as I needed. And on the days when I wanted to disappear completely, she reminded me—gently but stubbornly—that I mattered. Slowly, I started believing continue reading …