“You deserve to be here.” I whisper to myself, taking a deep breath before straightening my shoulders, turning the doorknob, and letting myself in.

Walking into a room full of 18 year old boys,all who have the intention of taking you down, is never easy.

My heels click-clack on the porcelain floor and heads turn. The beaming, fluorescent lights threaten my focus but I keep an unwavering, confident smile on my face as I greet the judges and find my seat. On it is a placard, with the name “ Representative Pitter” in bold, black lettering. You deserve to be here. I take a quick look around, and count nineteen tall, pale -skinned boys, all from different high schools in my area. I count one girl- me. A brown skinned, 5’3” fireball with dark eyes and curly hair. I still my quivering fingers as the all too familiar feeling of isolation creeps in. My mother's words replay in my head, “Just because you don’t look like everyone else in the room, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be there.” …show more content…
Although, I felt out of place socially, I felt in my element when I competed,. Almost every weekend our team would travel, locally and nationwide, to imitate the actual congress as part of a debate competition. We’re judged on our knowledge of parliamentary procedure, speaking ability and persuasion. Our team is a prestigious one, known locally for our multiple state and national champions. Try-outs were rigorous. I was the first Black student to make it onto the team in seven years. And a year later, I became the first Black (and first female!) student to become the congressional debate