I've always assumed that I was born and raised in poverty. I never went without necessities like food, shelter, and a at least one loving parent, but as I grew older, I started playing the comparison game. What most of my friends had, I lacked. I didn't have a walk in closet filled to the brim with clothes and shoes, I didnt have a mother to take me to the hair shop every few weeks for a pretty new hair do. Although my father did the best he could with what he had, tuition for college was paid out of my pocket alone. These are some of the things I thought came from living in poverty. But working in a Milwaukee public school, has taught me to be whole-heartedly grateful, because there are many people who weren't as blessed as me. Everyday, I walk through the halls of the school, or the streets of Tue neighborhood where the school is located, and I am saddened. Whole families who are starving. Not only for food, but clothing, shelter, and human affection. Mother's who can't afford to feed all of their children, let alone one. Their stories belong in the book of poverty. I am a witness to this outcome of a capitalist society, but I am not a victim