The Hello, my name is Emily, and I live in the bustling city of New York in the year

1905. I come from a modest home tucked away in a neighborhood where the streets are lined with apartments.

My family may not be wealthy, but we are rich and spirit.

My mother Mary is a woman of strong convictions.

She is a suffragist, a warrior for women's rights.

Our humble home is a hub of discussion, a safe haven for ideas that go against the norms of society. My father, a man with a gentle heart and a

supportive soul, stands by my mother's side. During the day I attend a local

school for girls, a place where our education isn't quite as good as the boys school nearby.

Their school has better books and well-paid teachers and quality equipment,

while ours is the opposite. The building isn't well taken care of, but our thirst for knowledge burns brightly.

Despite the challenges, my friends and I find solace within these worn-out walls.

We share dreams of a world where our voices matter as much as the boys, where the ink

and our pens carry the same weight as theirs. We dare to dream beyond the limits society has

given us. One afternoon, after a long day of vocabulary and math at school, I was excited to get

back home, walking faster than usual. After hurrying up the stairs to our apartment, I walked in the door to see my mother and her friends

using black paint to write on a large banner.

Welcome home, Emily, she said, are you ready to help with the march?

Yes, I exclaimed, joining one of her friends at the table.

I used the black paint to follow chalk letters on the cloth banner.

They were planning the route and the chance they would say on the way to the hall. More than anything, they wanted the the finished, they bound them to large polls and headed outside.

I followed behind, moving as fast as I could.

On the main street we joined other women who had made similar banners and were marching while chanting.

...