"You are not supposed to drink orange juice when you wake up, it’s coffee or sweet tea hot. What do you know? You're just a kid. Everyone knows it’s bad to drink cold in the morning." "But grandma, I see it on television all the time: a cup of orange juice it’s next to my food." "If you keep talking this nonsense, you’ll know what’s coming to you."

Don’t talk back.
Don’t look straight into her eyes.

They are wiser. What do I know? I’m just a kid
A kid who has an extra gift of language completely different from her family.

Yet, I have power.

The power that defies age, religion, background, and all of that.
That encompasses my family with culture and customs.
I embrace, I hold back, I listen, I register, and then I say.

I know, I’m different.

I make chaos. They don’t understand me.
I cry,
I scream,
I want to say how I feel inside,
but those words don’t come out.

I make change.
I give wisdom.
I’m one person valued as two.

Now, I realize.

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