The first thing I noticed when I started reading The Myth of the Safe Space was how utterly weird it all seemed.
At the top of every page were photos of a school or university, all with their own individual posters.
I’d never seen anything like it, and it made me feel like I was at a school of bridge, which I’m not.
And it didn’t make sense.
I’ve been to many, many schools of bridge.
I’m certainly not at a university of bridges.
But the one I saw here was different.
It was a small, white building, with a big pink “safe space” sticker on the front, on a bright blue tiled floor.
Inside the space were posters, all of them written in pencil.
They were all from a different school, with different students, with slightly different voices.
The posters were all written in a very different way.
One of them had a picture of a red cross, another a cross with a skull and crossbones.
Another had a portrait of a student.
Another was a cross.
Some were very similar to one another.
Others were completely different.
They had a lot of similarities, some of them quite striking, like the student with the cross.
One poster was titled “Tear down the barriers between us.”
The other poster was called “Stand up to Trump.”
I didn’t know how to read these posters, but I felt like I understood them.
It felt like this was a university that was about to tear down the walls of its own campus, and that was the message that they were trying to convey.
There was a big difference between them, I realised, and one that had never crossed my mind before.
When I looked at the posters, I felt so strongly that they all felt like the university of the bridge, but in a way that felt more like a safe space.
That they all wanted to be able to come and talk to me, and to be encouraged in their own voice, and in their personal stories.
They all wanted me to be understood.
I couldn’t see them as anything other than a safe place for people to be.
And this was an institution that was trying to tear them down, and they were saying to me: “We’re going to tear you down.”
It was as if they were afraid to say the truth.
The next day, I got the news that my old school was shutting down.
It had been the biggest move I’d ever made.
At this point, the first thing that happened to me was that I realised that I was no longer at the school of bridges, which was what had brought me here in the first place.
Now that I had come to terms with this, I could finally see the difference between what the university was and what I had been used to.
And the first time I really felt like an outsider was the day after the school closed.
I went to see my old friends, and I said to them: “What are you all going to do now?”
They didn’t understand.
They just kept talking about how they were going to be “the next bridge.”
I was so taken aback that I didn and still don’t understand how this happened.
They went back to their old school, and now I was not.
It wasn’t as if the school had been a great school, or even that they had done anything special.
But there was one thing they had learned: they needed to be part of something bigger than themselves.
They needed to feel like they belonged, that they weren’t just a little thing.
That somehow they had been chosen by a powerful force that was going to shape their lives for the rest of their lives.
When they were told that their old college was shutting, they were left feeling devastated and confused, but it was only later that I realized that it was also their fault.
When you leave a school you never know what will happen next.
And when I finally found my way out, the whole school was still there, still the same faces, still their posters.
It still felt like a big school, a big place that I couldn´t get out of, and the only thing that I could see was that this was the first step to moving on.
The university of Bridgeport, on the other hand, was all-new, completely different, and had never existed before.
There were no walls.
The walls were painted bright red, and every single one of them said “safe spaces”.
The school had just been built, and everything seemed so new and exciting.
But when I went into The Myth, I found myself looking at a place that was, to me at least, almost unrecognisable.
When the university had been shut down, I was shocked.
There had never been a place like this before, I thought.
It seemed so different from what I knew about the school.
I thought it was just an old building, and maybe that’s why people were so