It’s 1792 and riots and protests have gotten more and more intense. It’s getting dangerous outside. My dad wants me to stay inside so I don’t get hurt. 3 months ago people lead by the extremist Jacobins went to storm Versailles, They arrested the king and Marie Antoinette, the queen who was not even from France. And now rumors are going around that Marie said “let them eat cake” while the country was suffering due to widespread bread shortages. Louie he 16th left the country on the brink of bankruptcy. He spent so much money helping the Americans in their revolution. Because of that France is now in a revolution. Now when I go outside I see violence, I wonder if this will ever be over.

Most people would say that 17 should classify you as a child, but the events I witnessed made me a man. My entire life has been about war. When I was born, it was two years into the Vietnam War. Yesterday was the fall of Saigon where I fled for my life, and right now I am stranded in the middle of the ocean with no home to go to. Right now our plan is to go to the United States, but I am frightened by the idea that I will not be accepted. My name Hung means courageous or heroic. I find it ironic because I am stranded, scared, and there is nothing I can do. This is the first day where I haven’t heard gunshots and explosions but I do not feel any safer. My father died right in front of me and my mom and I were separated at the different ships. A man said she was going to England. I wanted to go with her but instead, I am forced to go to America. I am starving and hot and tired and don’t know how much longer I can do this.

I was sitting on my bed getting ready to go to sleep when my sister touched me and my brother and said we're going to go today. Next thing I remember was going out the door of the house and sprinting towards the tree line, in the distance I heard dogs barking and someone yelling the slaves are running so we quickly got to the river where we jumped in so we could lose the scent and the dogs wouldn't be able to chase us we swim through the water and got out I was not sure how far we went but it felt like years that we were walking and running but soon right next to the river we got to a house it was one of mourning all night my sister ran up to the door and not we were scared because we thought that we were going to get caught but when the door opened my sister said we're here and we all were in.

We went down into the basement there had been prepared place for us to sleep and food soon later the next night our sister ran off again she said I will be back and seem like days and days she had not come back but very soon she appear again she came back with more people we were amazed then she got even more people and kept going back and forth until we get there were multiple houses slaves I remember feeling fear of the police coming or slave owners coming and finding us in the basement I always thought of myself as brave Fila sport but in this moment I felt the most fear I have ever felt the fear of being killed in the fear that if we run we may never find another place to stay soon later oh sister took us again and this time she brought the others with us currently you're in Pennsylvania but then rent to British North America where there was little to no slavery we got there and we found freedom.

My name is Ben Ross Harriet Tubman's brother.

I am. Free African American man.

Imagine a world where no one really cares about your social standing or about your hair, or the color of your skin, or the people you like, or who you feel you are; a world where everyone is equal, and you can be whoever you want to be without being judged.

Can you imagine?

Imagine the sky, vast and unwaveringly distant. When the clouds cover it, it seems so far away, impossible to reach. Gray, and dreary, and not nearly as beautiful as the once-clear blue, with no hope in sight for a return of the sun. Imagine that sky, and think.

I like to think that I'm normal, that I'm just like everyone else. I go to school, I get relatively good grades, I talk with my friends about what to do over the weekend. But I think about more things than what to do over the weekend; I think about how I'm going to tell people about who I am, how I'm going to avoid the subtle glares, the jeering, and the people slamming me into lockers and calling me names. How I'm going to avoid my parents when they figure out. How I'm going to run, and hide, and not come out until the clouds overhead disperse, until that world without prejudice finally comes.

It's 1969, and people are rioting in the streets outside of the Stonewall Inn. It was recently found out to be a gay bar, and so the police raided the place. I want to join the protest, but if I do, everyone will know. My friends, my family, teachers, classmates. All of them will know who I am, and sit and stare, and point and judge, until my mask of stability cracks, until I lose it. Until I lose it all.

But hiding is worse. I can't sit by and watch others just like me be shot in the streets. I can't wait for that tomorrow, because if I do, others will never see it come. I can't hide from myself, because if I don't come out of this closet that I've been stuck in, the future I'm looking forward to might never come. The world won't change if you sit back, so I think it's time to say it, loud and clear.

I'm gay, and proud.

I stand by the debris of the fallen towers. My ears are ringing, I am devastated. Sirens blaring, people screaming, and me, standing there hopeless. I collapsed onto the pavement coughing and coughing, I cannot breathe. Dust all over my face, in my nose, my mouth. The world around me slowly starts to fade away. I awaken in an ambulance, all wired up. I go to wipe my eyes and pull back my hand to see it stained with blood. I am one of the first responders, now being driven away by my colleagues. I was having a cup of coffee at the firehouse, on a beautiful sunny day when we got the call. All firefighters, ambulances and police stations were ordered to clear out and rush down to lower manhattan. The small tv we have in the firehouse was on and every news station was reporting that a plane had crashed into one of the twin towers. Surely it was an accident and we were racing down there to help save people trapped inside. When we pulled up at the scene, however, that's when the second plane hit. The earth stopped spinning, everyone froze, and time was moving in slow motion. A loud boom echoed across New York, and thousands of papers went up in the air, coming down like snowflakes. Instinctively, my crew and I rushed in ordering people to evacuate. Hundreds of people ran out screaming, as I sprinted up the marble stairs. The higher up I got, the harder it became to breathe. Thick black smoke floated in the air. I picked up a crying woman sitting hopeless by the staircase, she was bloody and her leg was broken. Up and down I went retrieving more and more people. I was helping a man down the stairs when I heard a crack, and the ground shake. The building was coming down. Luckily the entrance was a few feet away and I was able to escape. There was a thunderous boom from above, as I saw the first tower crumble. I braced myself and closed my eyes. I wake up in a pile of debris. The second tower had just fallen with it. I wipe off my face and crumble to the ground in tears. This is the darkest day in America. 

November 24th, 2010.

Ok. I’ve got the information I need. Corporal Kyle Carpenter. Wounded in action on November 21st during a firefight as an Automatic Rifleman with Company F, 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines, Regimental Combat Team 1, 1st Marine Division (Forward),  Marine Expeditionary Force (Forward), at Camp Dakota in Helmand Province, Afghanistan. I'm calling Robin and Jim Carpenter in South Carolina to tell them their son is getting ready to be flown from Afghanistan, to the United States via a military trauma hospital in Germany. Holy shit this is a bad one. Alright alright don’t get distracted. What are they gonna ask? Probably if he’s going to die, and honestly I don’t know but I’ve got the info I’ve got. That should lead into me saying he’s being treated by the best doctors in the world, exactly what they expect me to say. Is there really anything I can do to help them? 

What is this? Call number one hundred and something? Sounds about right. They add up. The more you do the more sensitized you get and it starts to feel normal. This is not normal but it is the norm. I’m just a lieutenant sitting in a temporary office complex in Virginia who the hell am I to have a higher rank than this kid. Goddamn. Ok settle down. 

Hello - This is Lieutenant Nickolas Glassman with the United States Marine Corps calling to inform you 

Imagine a world where no one really cares about your social standing or about your hair, or the color of your skin, or the people you like, or who you feel you are; a world where everyone is equal, no one is above the law, and you can be whoever you want to be without being judged.

Can you imagine?

Imagine the sky, vast and unwaveringly distant, incomprehensibly large, meeting at the ends of the earth. When the clouds cover it, it seems so far away, impossible to reach. Gray, and dreary, and not nearly as beautiful as the once-clear blue, or the orange tones of sunset. Gloomy, with no hope in sight for a return of the sun. Imagine that sky, and think.

I like to think that I'm normal, that I'm just like everyone else. I go to school, I get relatively good grades, I talk with my friends about what to do over the weekend. But... I'm not. I think about more things than what to do over the weekend; I think about how I'm going to tell people about who I am, how I'm going to avoid the subtle glares, the jeering, and the people slamming me into lockers and calling me names. How I'm going to avoid my parents when they figure out. How I'm going to run, and hide, and not come out until the clouds overhead disperse, until that world without prejudice finally comes.

It's 1969, and people are rioting in the streets outside of the Stonewall Inn. It was recently found out to be a gay bar, and so the police raided the place. I want to join the protest, but if I do, everyone will know. My friends, my family, teachers, classmates. All of them will know who I am, and sit and stare, and point and judge, until my mask of stability cracks, until I lose it. Until I lose it all.

But hiding is worse. I can't sit by and watch others just like me be shot in the streets. I can't wait for that tomorrow, because if I do, others will never see it come. I can't hide from myself, because if I don't come out of this closet that I've been stuck in, the future I'm looking forward to might never come. The world won't change if you sit back. So, I think it's time to say it, loud and clear.

I'm gay, and proud.

__________________

I'm John. I survived the siege on the Alamo, in 1836. I'm a Texan, born and bred. When you have a childhood like mine, you learn to love your country. Because that's all you have. I was born at the US-Mexico border, at the turn of the century. My mother died a few months after I was born. Cholera got to her before my father could. Him? He died of hanging when I was 14. I don’t feel too bad, seeing as he was a bad father and an even worse thief. Anyways, when I was 14, I went and started to work on a ranch. Bought me a cabin, got a horse, and some decent food by 23. Then it started. In 1824, Texas was combined with Coahuila, and we formed a province. Some of us Texans were not too thrilled about that, and by 1834 we were getting excited. The USA had just offered to buy texas, and we saw a new future for ourselves. The truth got out. The offer was declined, by the president. Suddenly, President Santa Anna tried to take our home and our freedom. We fought back. I decided to join up with Mr. William Travis, and we marched on the alamo. We thought it would be an easy takeover, and it was. Then, Santa Anna decided to send 4000 soldiers against our 200. They conducted a siege, and only a few dozen survived, including me. We just had to run for our lives and hope we didn’t get spotted. Now, today, 7 years after the siege, I remain alone, telling my story to any who will listen.

I remember hearing the sirens down the road. Shivers trickled down my neck. My body felt like it was struck by lighting, stiff and petrified. Down that road lived the only place I felt accepted. Down the road was supposed to be my home. But slowly my home was starting to feel just like a house. As if the movers came right in and snatched the rug from beneath me. It felt like I was waiting under that bar counter for hours. I could hear there growling low voices pounding on the doors. The overwhelming red and blue lights were flashing against the walls. It wouldn't be the first time they forced their way into our lives just to strip the one ounce of humanity we had left. I was completely lost on what would happen next but I knew what was yet to come wasn't going to be pretty. I felt guilty thinking about my safety when I knew others would have it worse. But my short shorts and sequin top made me a key target. I remember looking over my shoulder to see a boy, small and frail, scared out of his mind. He wasn't going to be safe once they came in. Just with one twirl of his skirt, he was at risk. But as soon as they broke through those doors my body thought faster than my heart did. In the corner of my eye, I saw a hiding place behind the curtains. He was looking at me, yearning for some sort of direction but there wasn't time, there wasn't enough space for the both of us. At that moment I turned my head away as if I never saw him. I sat waiting under the curtain, my view obstructed but the sounds amplified. The screams, the crying, the hitting, the yelling was all too much. To this day I lie awake with no sight, awakened by a great deal of fright, hoping that someday I won't relive that day each night.

Hi im samuel a doctor, privateer, militiaman. I'm going to go ride with Paul and William. It's going to be dangerous we are warning the town that the british are coming. This needs to be done so the militia are ready and people can protect themselves i’m very scared. Hopefully this can be resolved soon so my family and I can feel safe. We are going to try to warn as many people as possible before sunrise. The british are coming tomorrow so we don't have long I must go. If I don't make it back I hope I will be remembered for this.