To the women (we were kids then), who had the courage and strength to argue with me (in high school's Intellectual Traditions of the West class) when I claimed that preventing women from ruling wasn't a restriction of their power.
To the young black district leader in the MTC, surrounded by a sea of white, who had the courage and strength to share with me his experiences and fears after I spouted some racist garbage about his supposedly less valiant ancestors.
To the family in Costa Rica that had the patience to teach me and love me after I complained about how Spanish weakened their culture.
To the atheist friend whose father had just died that sat and smiled and listened while I preached intricacies of Heaven, when all he needed was a hug.
To the LGBTQ people in the boardgaming and trail running community, who share their hobbies, families, love, joy, sorrow, pain, and humanity with me.
To my coworkers that gently correct me as I come to terms with their youth in contrast to my own.
I'm so sorry. In my shame, there are many more stories like these, and probably countless times I don't even remember or notice. My education should not have been (and sometimes continues to be) your burden to bear. That I am still in touch with many of you shows me your capacity for forgiveness and love that I aspire to.