I once stood in the path of a stampede. Of teenagers, not cattle. After one too many fights broke out at a poorly planned school dance, I decided to shut it down. Chaos ensued: vandalism, violence.

As I stood in the parking lot during the aftermath, I felt overwhelmed, drained, and very small.

I feel that way again. Like I don’t know how to do my job. Like I don’t know where to begin.

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