Seventeen years ago, when I was still a secondary school English teacher, an incident occurred that later proved to be a partial catalyst for my subsequent academic future as a teacher educator and educational researcher in the area of ethics in teaching and schooling. Briefly, this incident involved me in the distribution and administration of a survey from the local school board to some of the students in my home form class.1 Assuming that this task was just another of the numerous administrative demands on teachers, I neither questioned its purpose nor reviewed the survey before inflicting it on my students. As soon as I read it over with them, I saw it as being highly intrusive, non-confidential, serious in its intent (as supported by the school-wide public address message that urged us to complete the survey very carefully), and restricted to only those students who came from Vietnam. I could offer them no explanation for what was clearly a suspicious and distressing activity for many of them. If someone told me that I would deliberately and methodically segregate my students on the basis of ethnicity, subject them to an exercise that created in them some level of fear, violate their trust in me, and have absolutely no idea why I was doing any of this, I would never have believed them. And yet that is what happened, and it was wrong. It did not happen because I was a bad person with sadistic inclinations. It happened because, as a relatively novice teacher in a new school, I lacked what is to be discussed in this book as the ethical knowledge needed to enable me to apply my own moral intuition to the context of my professional obligations in this situation. Some may consider this incident a somewhat trivial matter; I see it as extremely significant ethically, in its own right, and as symbolic of the moral complexities that face teachers daily in their professional work and interpersonal relations with children and youth entrusted to their care.