Berkeley Bound [JJIE.org]
If you had asked me at the age of 7 what my meaning of home was, I probably would’ve answered with “I don’t know.” When I turned 7, I was taken from my father and placed into a foster home. I remember my social worker telling me that I was going to a sleepover for a few days. Even though I didn’t know this lady, I believed her. As the strange lady walked me out the front door, I saw tears in my father’s eyes. He told me to be brave and to always remember that he loved me and that no matter...