It was the first day of a new chapter in my life. My name is Aadan, and my family fled war torn Sierra Lone to live a better life in America. This meant I had the chance at a better education for myself. Fast forward six months, which led me to the point I’m at now. 

My mother had always been so proud of me, especially for allowing myself to believe in my dreams of becoming a lawyer in America. 

But how could I make her proud when I’ve never felt more alone. 

It felt like been Black was a crime.

9x9=

7x12=

8x6x19=

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My teacher, Mrs. Bright never understood the reasoning for me to move here at the age of 15. 

What’s the point she would hastily say under her breath. The constant picking on me, getting sent to the principals office, you name it it happened to me.

The turning point for which I stopped believing my teacher was just color-blind, it happened when she choose me to solve the math answer based on the fact the question included a Black boy and I am the only black student in the class. 

She was racist-blind.

The fact that I was sticking up for myself caused my grades and my academic progress to decline  from consistent detention, to being suspended days at a time. How could I ever be ready for the SATs at this point. 

My dreams were over.

My mama knew something was wrong. She would ask me every evening how school was, and I would end up in tears, angrily saying everythings wrong because I’m Black. This led her to see a decline in the quality of education I was receiving.

The next morning my mama woke me up and told me to get ready for school. She was coming to talk to the principal.