You may think you know who I am.

I’m the kid in your 3rd-period class. The one who sits in the back of the class. You walk past me every day. I hear you snicker to your friends about me. “Can you believe it? I bet he got that shirt from the thrift store.” “Look at those shoes. They’re so ratty! I bet he can’t afford to go out and get new ones.” “Oh my god! What is that smell? I bet he hasn’t had a bath in 2 days.”

Well, you’re right. My shirt did come from the thrift store and I haven’t had a bath in 2 days. And as for my shoes, they aren’t the only things I can’t afford.

What you don’t know about me is that I don’t have a nice home to go home to. You don’t know that some nights I don’t even have a meal to go home to. You don’t know anything about me at all.

You may think you know who I am, but you don’t even know my name.