I think of all the mothers and fathers I’ve interviewed over the years, humble people worn out from mind-numbing, bone-crushing work, but with eyes illuminated by a gleam of pride in their children. I think of all the parents who have trusted their children to my care as a teacher, all the students I’ve met and taught and tangled with, all of my fellow teachers who don’t care where their students were born, but care deeply about what they learn. And it sears my soul to think of the lives that will be shuttered in darkness because of this “citizen protection” law and others like it. Whose child is not worth protecting? Whose child are we supposed to sacrifice? The girl whose binders glisten with swirling letters, neatly-penned notes, and crisp colored tabs? The boy whose earring and baggy pants belie the poet burning inside? The young man who went on to earn a Pulitzer Prize for public service reporting? The young woman who graduated from college with honors and now works at a nonprofit helping those who can’t help themselves?