I love going to a title 1 high school that puts all of it’s money into sports rather than education and programs to help the at-risk.

I love how I can watch kids shoot up in the middle of my classes and how my school is infested with pedo teachers who, when not hitting on the kids here, cheat on their partners and fuck each other (and we cover this up, of course!)

I love seeing literal drug deals go on in my bio class, being asked what gang I associate with (none), and being threatened for not handing over drinks that I buy with my money.

I love how I see multiple freshmen who are older than most of my siblings. I love how I see pregnant freshmen here and there. I wonder whose the dad, the super senior or one of our principals?

I love how I’m cursed with the thoughts of my dead father’s rotting corpse on the floor of his apartment building after he collapsed and had a heart attack due to the strain on his body from smoking.

I also love when my teacher talks shit about kids with one parent at home, and single mothers, and makes yet another joke about how black people have big dicks or something. I think he might be racist, but I laugh at those jokes anyway because if I don't, he'll probably talk shit about me to the kids in his other classes, he probably does anyway.

I love going to a title 1 school. I love poverty.

I love not eating on the weekends. I love knowing some of my friends also don’t eat on the weekends.

I love bonding over trauma with my friends that we both earned from growing up in extremely poor areas that the state could care less about.

I love the constant shooting threats. I love the actual shootings as well.

I love walking and fearing for my life because who knows when a person with anger issues with no counseling (cause who needs that when you have sp0rtzz!!!) beats the shit out of me.

And I love when that fear proves to be true and when I’m actually attacked before my day really begins.

I love being in the town that makes people roll their windows up and tuck their purses inside of their coats, I love seeing people do that when they seem me walking home. I wonder if they know that I'm the same as them, I just want to get to my house, do my work, and sleep, ma'am.

I love looking at the private schools nearby that I’ll never get into because my first semester grades weren’t good enough and because my mom can’t afford them. I love wishing I could get away from it. I love not being able to get away from it because I’m zoned. I love reading that email from that AO, who told me I was required to pay more money that I’ve ever seen in my life just to spend a year at their school. I love wondering what it’d be like to have that much money.

I love poverty. I love getting stabbed because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time when a gang fight occurred.

I love the sound of my mom crying because she can’t afford to buy food or fix anything. I love hearing my brother’s names and learning what they’re being accused for and their chance at going to jail.

And I love people dismissing my anguish because something something college admissions likes low income URM.