immigration
Jamya, Age 10, New York I began patting the black leather seats and thinking about how I got to skip school on this windy Thursday morning. As my mom began to speed up, I could hear the tires screeching. I wanted to tell her to slow down because my life was in her hands. That […]
READ MOREJamya, Age 11, New York | Last year This man you see He was not a refugee But just a man Who loved to laugh And walk with his class By the sea He liked America But he was forced to flee He could be you He could be me But it was my father […]
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