Six days and fourteen hours. Thirty-five kids. One building. One rope. A city with a “bean.” “Step over the rope if the people in this room are more like your friends than the people you know back home.” I stepped to the other side of the rope, and stepped back. “Step over the rope if someone you love is hurting; and you don’t know how to help them,” he said. I placed one foot across the thick, purple rope...