The war between me and my alarm starts at 7:00 a.m. and I always lose. I hit snooze at 7:05, and again at 7:10, pretending those five extra minutes will somehow change my life. Then comes Mom’s dramatic entrance: “Wake up! Only ten minutes left for school!” My heart jumps, and I panic, only to realize there’s still an hour left. Classic Mom. It’s her favorite trick to give me a morning heart attack. Honestly, if I ever die young, it’ll probably be because I overslept.

I drag myself out of bed, wash my face, and stare at my closet like it’s a math test. What do I even wear? My sister’s clothes always look better, so I “borrow” hers (without permission, obviously). Breakfast happens somewhere between yawns and regret. I already hate school, but I end up there anyway in first period, Equity and Justice. It’s not a bad class though; we have a cute teacher, and her outfits are always on point. Every morning feels the same, until one day, it didn’t. During class, we watched a documentary about privilege. Michael Yates said something in his TED Talk that really stuck with me: “Inside this invisible backpack you are going to fill it with all of the positive aspects of your identity… if you have access to education you have power, put that in your backpack.” That line hit me harder than I expected. I always thought I wasn’t privileged enough, but then I realized I actually am.

We discussed how some people have more opportunities than others, and it made me think of my country, Afghanistan, where many girls aren’t allowed to go to school at all. Every morning and night, they pray that one day the doors to education will open for them.

I believe when we have a privilege that doesn’t give us power in the real world, we don’t even consider it a privilege. For example, just being able to go to school might seem normal, but to others, it’s a dream beyond reach. We honor what we have by using it well and by living the opportunities others are still dreaming of.

Meanwhile, I wake up complaining about school, struggling to get out of bed, skipping breakfast, and being ungrateful for what I already have. I used to think my life was difficult because of homework or bad grades, but really, I’m lucky. Going to school itself is a privilege; one that many girls dream about.

Now, every day I wake up and I fight for their dream to become someone. Their dreams are my dreams. I feel responsible for carrying them with me, for doing what they are not allowed to do yet.

To be grateful is to act, not just to feel.