Teen Ink

I walked to U.S. Customs in Chicago with my Jordanian passport clutched in my hand and my backpack over my shoulder. The man at the Customs window was dressed in a sophisticated black suit with...

In reflecting on the events of my life that have impacted me, I returned to the night of August 1, 2006. I found myself in Row G of Radio City Music Hall in New York City sitting by my mother, not...

     I watched my tiny Filipino grandmother light her unfiltered Camel cigarette then proceed to smoke it backward, with the lit end in her mouth. I know very little about...