I am Ewe. They call me "Li'l Ewe." I live in Skid Row and I am eight years old. I am primarily black and Latina and I have some white in me and a bit of Asian too, I think. I am female and I look dirty. I live in a ol' flophouse hotel with my six other brothers and sisters.

I know the world is full of lies: the lies my mother tells me; the lies people tell her and the lies others tell them. Maybe that's why I don't know who my father really is. I really don't think my mama know his name or who he really is. He lied to her.

I love my family. We are all we have. I love my mama too but she's useless--what with all the rock she smoke and the hookin' she do, it's hard to have a mom who's a "strawberry." And it's all I can do to keep the family together.

Many days I have to miss school to take care of the babies she makes 'cause Mama ain't home and nobody know where she is. I don't know why I'm the one who has to do it all the time. It's not like the older kids have anything better to do. When they're not at school they're in the streets, hustling, smoking weed, or maybe jackin' somebody.

Except for a couple of my sisters. Now, they're nice. We hang out together. And they talk about boys like they're dogs! But that's okay, the boys always calls us bitches anyway. Some of my sisters had babies and dropped out of school once their AFDC kicked in. Since I'm home a lot a lot, sometimes they give me a dollar of two to watch their brats. I don't mind, really. I think they're so cool.

All except for Cadyllac. He was born with a birth defect 'cause he was premature. They call him a "crack-baby." He cries a lot. A whole lot. and his mama is always yelling at him. But when he's with me, he smiles. They say he only smiles at me, for some reason. I think it's because he knows I love him. Maybe I'm the only one who do.

I'm hungry. The other kids ate all the leftovers. I can't go to the Missions because they won't let me eat without a parent or guardian with me. So sometimes I try to sneak some candy out of a busy store when I get really hungry. When I get caught I start crying real loud and they always make me leave. But what can I do? I'm a kid and I can't get a job. At least at school I get free lunch and that's okay. I try to save it to take home for the little ones. But sometimes I'm so hungry that I eat it all. I always feel bad when I do that.

The hotel we stay in is a very bad place. This place is dirty and nasty and nobody takes care of it. Nobody cares. Nobody! And it's scary to hear people screamin' and cussin' and fightin' all the time. Sometimes people get killed. I saw this nice lady get beat and knifed in front of me and my friends outside on the sidewalk by this crazy guy. It was awful! I'll never forget that as long as I live.

Y' know... there are nice parks in the area that have grass and a basketball court and stuff but no children are allowed to use them because the homeless adults lay around in them all day and so the children can't use them. I hear it's because the City wants to punish poor people for being poor. Somebody said they don't want poor people downtown and poor children even less. I think that's mean! And only a mean person would feel that way. Maybe they don't know what being poor is. Well, I do. And everybody I know do. It's hard. It's really, really hard. All us poor kids are treated like slaves and pieces of meat. I can't stand it! Sometimes I wish I could kill somebody--or myself just to stop all the madness. I didn't ask to be born. But here I am. Should I die to please you? Would that make you happy? Would it make your life easier?

It reminds me of something I saw on tv one day. In New Orleans, after Katrina, when poor people needed help the most and none came, a little boy about my age looked at the tv cameras and said, "Shame on you, America. Shame on you, George Bush. Shame on you all!"

I don't know the answers. But I know this is not right. I never did anything to hurt anybody. Why am I being hurt so badly? I'm trying to be a good girl and I want to grow up to be somebody good.

Please help me. Please, help us all.

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