Jahnae Patterson, age 17, was one of 11 who lost their lives in a violent weekend in Chicago. She dreamed of becoming a lawyer.
I feel safe in my community. Which isn’t that unusual. Except I’m not just any kid. I’m undocumented.
Every now and then I still find myself in a potentially threatening situation, and I start to think about getting a gun.
When I woke up that morning, it felt like just another day. Little did I know that my life would change forever.
A community can be formed on anything, from religion, to sexuality, to mutual interest. In my sixteen years on this earth, I have found myself hurdled into many different communities because of such characteristics.
For me dance isn’t only a sport, it’s a way to escape the struggles in my community.
In my neighborhood, it’s easier to buy tobacco and alcohol than a pencil.
Street vendors have always been a part of my life. From the tamale lady to the elotero, they have always been a constant in my life. In this story, I try to learn about the lives of these people since I have never taken the time to get to really know them.
They portray us teenagers as “bad kids, troublemakers, gangbangers, killers or just a terrible society in general” when really it’s only a few teenagers that fits into that category.