“Hello, what’s your name?” struck my foreign ear. Faces of awe stared me down, eyes devoured my every move. Sounds, articulation, and words that I failed to comprehend caused a sensation of fear to fill my eyes with tears. Voice cracking, throat shaking, all I could repeatedly state was “Quiero mi mami.” Five years old, trembling, I was the only Hispanic at an elementary school in Missouri; I was the shiny new toy. Nobody understood me. Not one student. Not one teacher. Nobody knew Spanish. All I could…
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