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For years, I tried to figure out how to get away from my low income, inner city school. But then, I changed my mind.
Earlier this year, a part of my school’s ceiling fell down during English class. And we didn’t have a library or a cafeteria until this year. For a long time, I hated my school. In the eighth grade, I even wrote applications to elite boarding schools, until my mom put a stop to it. It took a long time to realize what I had. While my school lacks many resources, it makes up with rich cultural experiences.
The curriculum is less Eurocentric, and more representative of us. Like in AP US history, we learn about the 13 colonies, while also focusing on the Chinese Exclusion Act and the Chicano Movement.
At dances, the usual Drake and Too $hort plays, but the bachata and reggaeton rhythms of Romeo Santos and J. Balvin accompany it.
My school taught me the value of diversity and to love other cultures as well as my own. I wouldn’t trade my education experience for anything else — although a school with a heating system sure sounds nice this time of year.