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Poverty: A Love Story
We all have those we love, but this world so often forces us to choose one side or the other.
Every person who has ever grown up poor lived in blissful ignorance of their poverty until by some method of comparison the world made all too clear their station. I’ll never forget the day I learned that not everyone lived like me, my family and my friends.
My family didn’t have much money, but they scraped together what they could and sent me to private school. It was like walking into an entirely different world. For one, back in my neighborhood all my friends were Black. At school everyone was white. As a white and Hispanic kid growing up in a primarily Black neighborhood, I had always felt like the odd one out — having been affectionately referred to as “cracker” more than my actual name. Yet, I never felt more out of place than when I was surrounded by these kids with a skin tone that was just like mine.
Since I was socially awkward regardless of the circumstances, not fitting in just seemed par for the course. It wasn’t until one day when I was in class talking to my desk mate that I realized how deep the gulf between me and the kids at my school ran. I forget what it was me and that skinny blonde boy were initially talking about, but eventually he asked me where I lived. I casually responded…
