For context, the Fresh Air Fund is a program that gives children from underserved communities in New York City the opportunity to experience other parts of the world.

It was finally my turn to take part in the program. Like my sister, who had been sent to stay with a welcoming family for the past two summers, I would now experience a similar summer vacation. At nine, I was headed to upstate New York for a week and a half. Mingled with fear and anxiety as I prepared to leave my family for the first time, I awaited a family that was waiting for my arrival with open arms. In the suburban area of Caledonia, NY, I met a white family of four. One girl, just one year younger than me, Reakea, one boy, Attila, just one year older than me, and their parents, Lisa and Alex. Off the rip, I already felt like an outlier in this group. However, I was a social kid, so regardless of how weird of a position I was in, I saw these guys as my new friends. While on the car ride to my temporary home for the next week and a half, I got to know some of their interests. Something we had in common was Pokemon, the trading card game, and playing with building blocks. I found less common interest with Attia, surprisingly, since around this time, I was under the impression girls had cooties. I had known coming into this family that we were brought up differently, but not to the extent that I couldn’t relate to him at all. During the first night, it clicked. I was sleeping in the same room as Attila, but in a waterbed below. I was right above a book shelf full of novels, fiction books, everything. Right before going to sleep, Lisa had prepared a book for us to read together before bed, which was something I was not used to. I found it unique and comforting. Once Lisa had shut the door and said goodnight to everyone, Attila had gotten his headlight and took out Harry Potter from the bookshelf and continued reading before fully going to sleep around 30-40 minutes later. It was truly an eye opener to reflect on myself as a student going to the fifth grade. Throughout the weeks, Attila would give us random facts and complete trivia questions in the newspapers for that week. When I got older, it was more apparent to me that we were raised in a completely opposite spectrum of society. There were multiple factors that would make these two differ so much, but one of the main ones I’d notice that was more prevalent than the others is how we were nurtured. Being raised by immigrant parents who built themselves off from nothing in this new country, they’d work day and night for a living and never got the time to learn English. As New York City is one of the places where it’s so diverse that speaking English isn’t a necessity, they would be able to pass more than 20+ years knowing some terms. From my family upstate, I saw the privilege that comes with knowing English firsthand. In the way they were raised came a person who had a curious mind for books. I had wondered if I were raised this way my whole life, would I have that same curious mind too, or at the very least be literate enough to not struggle in school? Regardless of my upbringing, I had, over time, learned to articulate myself better than I used to. I would never bear any resentment toward those who raised me, but it brought a new perspective on how being raised forms the blocks of a person.