I moved to Peekskill. New York when I was about eight. I was living in Yonkers, New York, but then my parents realized we needed a change. The area I lived in Yonkers was extremely bad. There was a lot of drugs and violence and my parents didn't want to finish raising their family in this horrible neighborhood. My family and I lived in a small two-bedroom apartment on Radford Street. My family consists of a mother, a father, five daughters and a son; obviously our family was a little too large for this apartment. These were just some of the reasons my parents wanted to move. According to my mother, the school my sister and I attended was not at the same level as other schools in the state that we might have attended. He thought we were too smart for the schools located in Yonkers. On the other hand, I loved the school I attended. I loved PS 13 for a variety of reasons. I really liked the faculty. All the teachers were so kind and friendly. Oddly enough, I also liked the food. Most kids don't like cafeteria food, but I liked school food. Everything seemed to be going well, but I never realized what was really happening. I didn't really know that I was living in danger and that if I walked down the wrong street home from school or looked at someone the wrong way or talked to the wrong person, my life could be over in a matter of a couple of minutes. I never realized that my family and I lived in a community where so many tragic events were happening right before our eyes. Sometimes I would come home from school and see my mother crying. I'd say, "Mom, what's wrong?" He would wipe his tears and say, “Nothing Lisa, do you have homework?” I would give her an answer and carry on as if nothing had happened. Years later, I now realize that those tears streaming down my face were due to sadness. He hated the life he lived and the life he was leading us to.