Like every stringy-haired, freckle-faced girl, middle school wasn’t exactly a haven of bliss for me. I’m not sure if it was my dirty no-brand tennis shoes or my ill-fitting mom jeans, but I was never invited to sit at the cool kids table.
Ever the realist, I decided not to push my luck with the popular crowd and instead resigned myself to bus rides spent reading and doing homework. It was during that time of solitude that I fell in love. Not with a boy. Not with a girl. But with politics. I buried my nose in my history books and relished the idea of a society where hierarchy wasn’t determined by birthright or the type of shoes you wore. Instead, everyone was born equal and treated equally. It was at this point that my life course was decided: I wanted to work in politics.
So like any other Type-A…
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