“Rastat otho lal--” roads filled with red. This is how my mom describes the bloodshed covering our Bangladeshi village in 1971. I digest stories of her 10 year-old self who faced agonizing fear over the daily risks of her family being murdered, raped, or abducted. Through independent learning, I discovered the term "genocide,” and in the limited research available, I learned that though villages like ours were not spared, this forgotten genocide especially targeted “intellectuals.” An estimated 1,000 - 2,000 politicians, lawyers, doctors, journalists, and professors were persecuted and killed. Over 900 school teachers were killed as a consequence of their ardent commitment to teaching and unwavering conviction in the transformative power of education. These stories are not just historical facts; they are living legacies that propel me to share them by teaching secondary history. My future classrooms will enable students to recognize the Bangladeshi Genocide and draw parallels to others, like the Armenian Genocide, which similarly included mass violence and deaths, forced displacement, and significant denial by their oppressors. Through connecting histories, I aim to empower critical awareness and exploration of globalization, human rights, power dynamics, and obscured conflicts from Artsakh to Chittagong Hill Tracts to West Papua and beyond, to interrogate humanitarian crises as preventable atrocities still rife today. I aspire to instill change by illuminating forgotten histories of repression and resistance that will further inform my students' worldviews and motivate humane policies as politicians, advocate for international justice as lawyers, provide trauma-informed care as doctors, and expose truths as journalists and professors. My commitment to teaching history is both a lifelong career choice and a deep-rooted mission. It is a tribute to my country’s survival and a vow to educate incoming generations about the past to build a more just and compassionate future.