Before the divorce, I guess you could say my family was my religion…We never went to church, but the one strength we had was our own collective set of ideals and morals — we were our own belief system.

February is Black History Month, and I am not aware of any events going on in my school — I’m not being taught about what blacks have done to contribute to the modernization of civilization, or how they have paved the way for the civil rights of us all.

I always remember believing in God. But I thought He was just a guy, far away, kind of hanging out. After my parents divorced, my dad left us, remarried and moved to Michigan. On the outside, I pretended that everything was OK, but on the inside, I just wanted to escape. I felt completely abandoned and unloved by my father, and my self-esteem took a nose dive.

The doorbell rings. Pizza’s here. I pay the delivery guy. This is usually one of the times I’d be hanging out with my brother eating pizza and playing Xbox. But not tonight. He’s sitting in a trailer in Baghdad, Iraq.

All my life I have been judged for being a young black female. Even though I thought racism was “over,” I’ve been given the runaround almost every time I’ve wanted to get involved in school or my community.