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I arrived at Xavier High School, iced coffee in one hand and bottled water in the other. It felt like the first day of college – the hangover, the registration desk, the not knowing what I was looking for. I sat in a classroom that housed adolescent boys during the week and watched the women file in. Woman after woman after woman. By the time the classroom had filled, there were about sixteen women of varying ages occupying a half-moon of desks.