In the late 90s I volunteered one morning a week for one class in a middle school in Mattapan in Boston at a time of many youth-on-youth shootings. I asked my sixth grade class how we could make the class safe. Quickly ideas were shouted out: “armed guards, metal detectors, bars on the windows.” Then a boy, one of the smallest, put his hand up. He said, “Then we will be in a prison,” he paused and said, “We could try to get along.” A murmur of assent went round the class.