I hesitate. I, your earthbending roommate, just watched you freeseze your cup. You looked to me, fear prominent in your eyes. I walked over and grabbed the glass. "Hide your strength. No one will know about it, if you learn to control it. Then you can breech the government and free the people." I say, Getting you a new glass of water. I set it down infront of you. "And I'll help you out the entire time."
You're a local healer, a good one, and your people love you. But you do not truly heal wounds, merely transfer them. The people of the valley below know you under a different name. (Kinda like the one's who walk away from omelas)