Walking into the village school for the first time, I had no idea how much those children would teach me in return.
I arrived at the literacy camp nervous and unsure. The classroom had no fans, the benches were worn, but the children sat upright with notebooks open and eyes full of curiosity. I spent the morning teaching basic alphabets using hand-drawn flashcards. By afternoon, a seven-year-old named Raju had spelled his own name for the first time. He looked up at me and grinned. I realized then that this work matters more than any resume line ever could.