Because I knew there would be resistance.
Systems like that classroom don’t change overnight. They push back. They protect themselves. And people like Mrs. Gable don’t wake up suddenly transformed—they double down.
Barnaby trotted beside me, tail low but steady, like he understood today would matter.
When I opened the classroom door, Mrs. Gable was already there.
No greeting.
No eye contact.
Just a stack of papers slammed onto her desk and a tight, controlled voice.
“The principal wants to see you during first period.”
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