Emily entered my classroom the year before the concert. The teenager in me was awed by her. Found her painfully cool, wanted so hard to be her friend. Thick, dark, wavy hair fell down her back. She wore braces, ripped and cuffed jeans, black Converse hi-tops, and the band’s T-shirt twice a week. In winter, a denim jacket. Her standard uniform. I interpreted her reserve as self-possession and maturity. She was quiet in class. She volunteered…