My mom used to always say that entrances and exits are the hardest of things. The first time I remember her saying this to me I was leaving my most loved elementary school, a place I went to from 2nd-5th grade, a place that felt like home–I was leaving it to begin a new middle and high school. A much bigger place with new routines and unfamiliar people. And what my mom meant by the entrances and exits being the hardest of things wasn’t so much about the grief of goodbye and the discomforts of...