An acquaintance once described a summer camp they were at as a child. Mostly it was like all summer camps, a load of fun activities for kids. It was Jewish themed, since it was for Jewish kids. But there was one activity not like the others:
First, all the kids had to write their name on a piece of paper. Then they were all rounded up to one area. Then they were formed into a queue. Then, one by one, they had to hand over the paper with their name and watch it burn.
All the kids were crying at the end, because the lesson was: sometimes the rules are not there for you. Sometimes the adults are not your friend, but your enemy. You need to watch for those times, those rules, and not obey them, or you will die.