By Guest Blogger on December 2nd, 2014
I sometimes wonder if my three years in middle school were harder than my three years in a refugee camp.
On the fashion front, I wore the same shirt to school three times a week and earned the name “Clash Man.” In 8th grade, I got kicked off my basketball team and my family was forced to move into low-income housing. At my new school, I got my first D in math, and Cs in some of my other classes.
If you would have asked me if I was a leader, I would have laughed. I was trying to survive each day of school and hoping that life would get better.
Life did get better, but not because I got better housing or a new wardrobe. Continue reading