This is a true story about social class written by a middle school girl who lived in the housing projects. How would you respond to her questions?
As my footsteps make small, shallow noises on the hard hallway I walk down to get to my apartment, I see scratches on the door. I walk inside and see pictures on the wall and trinkets lining shelves. I put down my bags and sit by the computer to get online. After I type in the name of my school. I ﬁnd articles telling the whole area that I live in a poverty stricken neighborhood that is crammed with people full of diversity.
I read 83% of the children at my school get free or reduced lunches and realize I am one of them.
I get tired of this nonsense and put my converse sneakers on with a perfume soaked sweatshirt to go outside. I leave the apartment and travel out into the parking lot.
Everyone says “Hi,” to me as they rollerblade or ride their scooters around. I walk up to my friends and we play games or just hang out and enjoy each others company. Sometimes we go out to the movies or go shopping at the mall. Other times we go to a teen center, the roller rink, or just stay at home, but we always manage to keep ourselves occupied.
When I come back home I don’t think about how it would be to live in a house, let alone a big one, because I do love where I live already. It’s just when I ﬁnd ads in newspapers saying that I live in “housing projects” and such things like that that I feel so horrible. I realize I am pretty unwealthy. I think about how my mom Continue Reading…