My name is Rosa Parks. I was born on February 4th, 1913 in Tuskegee, Alabama.

At a young age, my parents got divorced and I moved away to Pine Level, Alabama with my grandparents and my mom.

Back then, if you were black, you were treated unfairly just because of the color of your skin. You were not allowed to live in the same neighborhood as white people, eat in the same restaurant, ride the same elevator, or use the same bathroom. You couldn't even drink from the same water fountain. One was marked for whites, the other was colored.

WHITE ONLY

COLORED

My school was a super tiny, old, wooden building with one room and one teacher for everyone. Everyone from the five-year-old kids to the sixth graders were stuffed in that tiny room.

Everyday us kids would bring our books home because we were scared that racist people would try to burn down the school.

The school for kids who were white was pretty different from the school for kids who were black. It was a new brick building with beautiful windows, new desks and plenty of books.

It also had a playground.

Also, if you were black, you had to walk to school. If you were white you got to take a bus.

The worst part was that when I would walk home with my brother, the kids on the bus would throw trash at us. It made me feel horrible. But, there were no "civil rights" back then. The only solution was to move off the road. And what kind of solution is that?

When I got older, things didn't change much.

One winter, I was waiting for the bus. If you were black, you had to ride in the back. If you were white, you got to ride in the front of the bus. On that day, the back of the bus was packed. But the front was empty. I was trying to find a place to sit. But as I entered through the front door the driver said, "What do you think you are doing? You need to get off and use the back door. Only whites can come in the front." I explained to him that I was already in the bus so it would be a waste of time to get off and come back in.

The driver didn't care. He wanted me off that bus. He grabbed me by my arm. I dropped my purse accidentally. I went to go pick it up. After that, I sat in the white seat. It made the driver even madder than ever. He yelled at me to get off the bus. Still that afternoon, the driver got his way. He kicked me off. But I promise you, that wasn't the last time I'd face that bus driver.