After an hour and a half drive through the noisy, dirty streets of Bogotá, Colombia, my uncle, Gustavo dropped me off at the airport. He accompanied me as far as he could go, because he wasn’t a passenger on the plane. I became much more aware of the things around me once I was alone. I was barely eleven years old and I had never realized how different I was from the people in …showed first 75 words of 371 total…

…showed last 75 words of 371 total…and I know that not everyone looks exactly like the citizens of my culture. But at eleven, I couldn’t understand this. The only thing on my mind was to run. Instead I bit down on my lip to hold back the tears and looked straight ahead as I walked through the airport. When I arrived in Nieva, Colombia my other uncle, Mauricio picked me up and I vowed never to wear those clothes again.