Atlanta Teens Jayla Jackson and Emani Stanton Win International Debate Competition at Harvard

"So, who are you?" "What?" "Who are you?" she repeats. "Of the millions and billions of people in the world, you're the only person who can answer that. Not people online or at your school. I can't even answer that. I can say who I think you are." She cups my cheek. "And I think you're brilliant, talented, courageous, beautiful. You're my miracle. But you're the only one who can say who you are with authority. So, who are you?" "I'm..." I can't find the words. My mom leans over and kisses my forehead. "Work on figuring it out. I think it'll give you more answers than you realize."

"She has to decide that enough is enough. We can't do it for her." "What if she never gets there?" Jay holds her hand out. I put mine in it. "You have to prepare yourself for that possibility, baby." I don't like it, I don't like it, I don't like it. "I don't wanna lose her," I croak.  "I don't either," she says roughly. "God knows, I don't. We can love her with everything in us, but it doesn't matter if she doesn't love herself."