Growing up, my parents weren’t around a lot, they were always working. My mom worked in Connecticut and my dad deep in Brooklyn. Both would leave before my brother and I woke up. At the time, our grandparents lived in the same building as us. My dad would drop us off at their apartment when he left or work. My grandpa was the super of the building and had to work early too, but was always in and out of the apartment. Every morning he would make us hash browns, eggs and strawberry milk, he’d always remind us to not tell our mom. Of course, the first thing I’d do when I see my mom next is tell her that I had strawberry milk. We took the bus to and from school too. My grandma gave us walkie talkies to contact her whenever we were sick or needed something when she was in the other room. The bus stop was down the block so whenever we were approaching we’d get out our walkie talkies and tell her to meet us downstairs. We would often fall asleep before our parents got home, but we liked spending time with our grandparents a lot. And, of course, we liked the strawberry milk too.

“As long as anyone could remember Margaret loved racecars. Everything about them fascinated her. She was prolly bout 3 when I first brought her to the track. I member walking into the Speedway, immediately I saw her bright green eyes gloss over right b’neath them coke-bottle glasses, jaw damnnear hit her boots. I spent lots o’time wit kids in the past and never seen such passion on a child’s face before. I never expected for that day to spark what would become her life long dream. Growing up, all she’d do was talk about cars and how she would be the best racer there was. In elementary school, she practically begged my wife and I to move to Alabama, so that we would be closer to the Talladega Superspeedway. Course, we quickly shut that down. Instead, Margaret settled for something else. We told her that for every birthday we would go down to a different Nascar track. She wanted to see them all. One Friday afternoon, new little miss 8th grade attitude so boldly walked up to me and said ‘ten dollars please,’ with her hand out so high and mighty. I looked down at her and said ‘and for what exactly young lady’ to which she so confidently replied ‘Im going out.’ Before the panick set in, I allowed her to explain herself. She told me there was a new kart track next county over, she had to go. No ifs ands or buts. So, I slapped them ten dollars into her hand and said ‘let’s go’. A few days after her 16th birthday she came to me the same way she did in 8th grade. Head held high, confident with that sneaky little grin of hers, stuck her hand out and said ‘$1000 please’ with confidence even stronger than before. I could not even imagine what this could be about. She had a job at the gas station a mile down the road. She proceeded to say ‘I know its a lot but Ive been saving. Them neighbors is selling their car and I’m $1000 short.’ My little girl always gets her way. Soon enough she got her full license and was driving and dragging that car everywhere she could… not always so legally. When she graduated she applied for a special driving school to become a racer. Course she got in, ‘woulda been their loss if they hadn’t’ , she would walk around and tell everyone. I remember the day of her final test. Somehow she had gone through all this time without them telling her she needed perfect vision. She was devastated — beyond that, she was crushed. Just when she thought her dreams were over, one of her teachers told her she would be a perfect pit leader. Sure, she wouldn’t be racing, but it was the next best thing. He even told her that she could race ‘unofficially’ from time to time. On her first official day, halfway through the race, one driver lost control. The car flipped the baracade and hit Margaret head on. My daughter whom I loved more than anything gone in an instant. Today is the 3 year anniversary of her death. I thank god everyday that my wife convinced me to start going to these, sharing my story, our story, Margaret’s story. Thank you for listening.” He sits down shakily, the person next to him grabs his hand. “Thank y’all for sharing today, it’s been another great meeting. See y’all next week” the AA leader says. “See ya next week” they reply in unison.

Today I took all of my discouragement

And put it into a can

I set it up on the floor

And stepped on it until it was crushed

All my life I have been told

“You cannot …” 

Constantly discouraged,

Kicked to the side,

I don’t look like my mom or dad or brother

I am different so I do not belong

My parents didn’t go to college,

I didn’t get good grades,

“You won’t make it, just work a job you’ll hate”, they’d say

I believed in myself,

I took the discouragement 

And put it into a can

I crushed it until it was merely dust

Unlike the little engine that could,

I don’t think I can,

I know I can.

I have always done my best to keep up with current events, particularly domestic issues. It is not always easy to concentrate on issues not taking place in the US as the distance to other counties, especially overseas adds a layer of disconnect. That being said I make every attempt to take time to make myself aware of what is going on in countries around us. 

Although this is true, the conflict between Isreal and Palestine which had a strong social media presence sparking the hashtag free Palestine (#freepalestine) drew in much of my attention. Of course, I was aware of the issues in this region as it is unfortunately been an active conflict for decades. However, with the #freepalestine movement on Instagram and Twitter, as well as, other social media platforms, this really opened my eyes to how truly severe the situation is and has been.

Many of my friends including myself have posted speaking out against the heinous crimes committed by Isreal. While my friends and I were trying to spread awareness and understanding, I started to notice a lot of people that I followed, who I grew up with — living in a community with many Jewish residents– posting opposing and offensive messages. I got into many arguments with people who did not seem to understand or want to understand any perspective other than their own. Seeing that many people I had known for years and had grown up with were so ignorant and blind to this concerned me, I was just doing my best to help spread awareness as much as I could.

This particularly struck a chord with me because my mother and her family were forced to flee their country at a young age due to similar circumstances. Therefore, my interactions with others became personal which made me further feel that I need to speak up and educate myself along with others in order to try and help myself and others connect to and acknowledge the true atrocities that are taking place around us.