your hair is beginning to grow past your ears.
it angers me almost as much as it brings a giddy smile to my face.
it stretches every which way as it peeks out of your hood. i watch it bend and curve through your fingers when you pull at it.
I’m a 13 year-old in West Town. I walk the streets searching for answers. I ask myself, Will I make it?
I wake up every day knowing it’s a battle for survival, a battle to achieve my desires for who I want to become.
“What would I do if I had not met you?
Who would I be if you had not been my friend?”
What about for you?
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,”
said the thoughts of everyone else and ourselves.
It was all sort of against us happening,
My Black were slaves to the white race,
Brutally killed, if we had a word,
Forced to assimilate,
And economically taken advantage of.
My Black is classified as the “n” word,
Let alone everyone believin’ what they have heard,
Notre Dame's Mendoza College of Business paired business-savvy alumni with 826CHI to conduct a five-month audit of 826CHI's communications.