Research has always been a private thing for me. Not secretive, but private in the way that most of the real work happens before anyone else sees it: the literature surveys, the dead ends, the version of a hypothesis that turns out to be wrong in an instructive way. You learn to sit with ambiguity. You learn that the gap between what a model claims and what it actually does is where the real work lives. That kind of learning does not come with a syllabus. It accumulates. Teaching it is something else entirely. When I started bringing that experience into Tech and Ethics, I was not trying to simplify what I knew. I was trying to make honest what it actually feels like to do this work, which is that research is mostly a practice of staying wrong slightly less often over time. That is not a particularly inspiring pitch. But it is true, and students sense when you are being straight with them. What I did not expect was what happens when you share something you learned the hard way with someone standing at the beginning of that same road. There is a specific kind of attention they bring to it. They are not nostalgic, they are not comparing it to anything. They are just present with the idea in a way that forces you to meet it fresh too. I thought I would be passing something forward. I did not expect it to come back around. Four years of research changes how you see problems. Teaching for even a fraction of that time changes how you see yourself inside those problems. It is harder to be precious about what you know when you have had to explain it from scratch to someone who has every right to ask why any of it matters. I do not think that is a small thing.