.png)
Racial discrimination is a deep, aching wound that strips people of their dignity simply because of the color of their skin. It crushes dreams, silences voices, and forces individuals to carry pain they did not deserve. Imagine waking up each day knowing your worth may never be seen—not because of who you are, but because of what you look like.
This injustice isn't just history; it's a daily struggle. It steals joy, replaces hope with fear, and teaches children to doubt their value. Behind every forced smile is a heart tired of fighting to be seen as equal. Real change begins when we feel that pain, not just see it—and act with compassion, not just words.
They stared at me like I was wrong, As if my skin made me too strong. They spoke in hush, they moved away, Pretending I had lost my way. But I stand tall in what I am, A truth they cannot crush or slam. Their rules are inked in fading dust, While mine are stitched in love and trust. I don't need to be like them— Their light was never mine to dim. So I keep walking, clear and proud, Even when the world gets loud. Different, not less—that’s my song. Been right here all along.
“In the Bronx, kids of color grow strong, like flowers pushing through concrete. Every day, they face unfairness—but they don’t back down. They smile, dream big, and stick together. By teaming up with kids from all backgrounds, they show that unity isn't just an idea—it’s something you can see, feel, and build. Even when people judge them before a single word is spoken, they speak louder through kindness, talent, and teamwork. They turn awkward moments into teachable ones, laughter into bridges, and shared struggles into unstoppable friendships. Their strength doesn’t come from avoiding challenges—it comes from rising through them, day after day. And as they rise, they inspire others to stand up, stand together, and build a Bronx where every kid is seen, heard, and valued.”