September 1, 1978 I entered the infamous world called earth. I was born in Humacao, Puerto Rico into my family with 3 additional siblings. I was the very last child my parents desired. We lived in a very small house with 2 bedrooms on top of a hill. In order to go into the city, we had to travel many miles down dirt roads. We entered the United States and I thought I was in Heaven. There were cars all over the place and people in suits speaking a language I did not understand. I vividly recall all of the people looking at us when we were at the airport like we did not belong there. Seeing my father nicely dressed with a smile brought tears to my eyes. I felt his words he had spoken to me were true, and we would be rich. Ordinary, that is something I wish I was. I would deem myself a common Hispanic American rising up and about in a community in which my family was the only Hispanic family. I have experienced everything from prejudice to disgust. The issues are not so bad now days however, there are still various issues in my life I hopecould be resolved. My name is Antonio (Anthony) and I was raised in upstate, New York. I am 30 years old and I have a beautiful fiancé. My parents have also lived in New York for a very long time. I first started attending school when I was 5 years old. I remember walking in my classroom, and all the other Caucasian children staring at me like I was from a different world. It was the worst feeling I have ever experienced. Some of them had never even seen a Hispanic American child before other than on television. I made friends with a couple of other little boys and girls however, most of the children kept me distant. I do not know if it was because their parents told them to, or because they were scared of me. I never did anything to them, and they still hated me. I experienced my first racial slur when I was 11 years of age, a young age to be called the “N” slur. I did not even know what it meant at the time. That was the first...