We’re going to have to move again. When I got home from school, an eviction notice was posted on the door. I don’t want to leave my school. Mama, why is this happening again?
Angelika’s Journal is a resource for those who want to understand the impact of poverty on children. Each chapter starts with a journal entry from Angelika. As she deals with the challenges of poverty, she inspires all to see their world differently. At the end of each chapter, a study guide and questions dig deeper into the issues that confront Angelika. This is the perfect resource for people who want to understand how children experience poverty in the U.S. every day.
The twelve chapters of Angelika’s Journal are meant to be used consecutively so you can follow Angelika’s journey as she experienced it. Follow up information, questions for discussion, and ideas for things you can do follow each excerpt.
Angelika’s Journal gives insights into the world of homelessness and poverty through the eyes of a young girl. You can learn a lot just by reading the journal without using the Study Notes, Questions for Discussion, and What You Can Do sections. The more you choose to absorb the emotions, feelings, and information in this book, the richer your life will be and the more prepared you will be to help improve the quality of life for those who live in poverty.
From Chapter 1:
I found this blank book in a pile of trash lying along the sidewalk. I cannot believe that anyone would get rid of this beautiful thing. I’m glad I found it because I’m going to write my deepest, most private thoughts in it. I’m glad that I have my own personal book. It’s mine, all mine!!! I’ve never had a book like this before. Mama doesn’t really have time to listen to me and I don’t have friends. This book will be my BFF (that means Best Friends Forever!)
We moved yet again. This time Mama woke us in the middle of the night and told us to grab whatever we could. Someone who I didn’t know had a car in front of the house. We put as many important things such as clothes, pots and pans, and dishes as we could carry into the back seat. We sat on top of everything and then whoever owned the car drove us away. Even though I wanted to look back at the house we’d lived in for most of this school year, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to see it through my tears because of the broken street light on the corner.