One day last April, as I left the elementary school where I work, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I ripped my purse open and grabbed my mask, clutching it to my face as I made my way towards the exit in a panic. As I turned the corner, I saw the janitor cleaning the floors.
She wasn’t supposed to be there right then. I knew her schedule, because I planned my life around it. My ability to breathe depended on her being nowhere near me. I was furious! Why was she there in that hallway when she wasn’t supposed to be? Why did she use chemicals so harsh that it made it impossible for me to breathe? Why did no one else care that this was happening? Why was I the only one impacted so severely? What made me different from my co-workers, who walked by those chemicals without reacting?
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