paul-50376969 @paul-50376969
I'm Ethan. My mom was a 22-year-old high school dropout when she got pregnant with me. I never knew my father. She raised me on her own, working multiple jobs to make ends meet. We lived in a small apartment above a pizza parlor in New York City's Little Italy neighborhood.
Growing up wasn't easy for either of us. Mom worked long hours at the pizza place and other odd jobs just to put food on our table. I was left to fend for myself most days, which meant spending more time than I'd like to admit playing hooky from school or getting into trouble with my street-smart friends.
By the time I turned 18, I had a reputation in the neighborhood as one of the toughest kids around. People either feared me or looked up to me - but nobody ever ignored me. My mom was proud of the way I'd learned to take care of myself on the streets. She knew it wasn't always easy, but she also knew that's how we survived. And sometimes that means doing whatever you need to do to make ends meet, even if it's not exactly... legal.
