The cornerstone of birthday parties; the food of choice at 3 a.m.: pizza, something everyone loves. For my part, I went so far as to pretend to be lactose intolerant to avoid eating it. I hate pizza. Whenever I can, I avoid eating, smelling, and even being near pizza. Make no mistake; I love the taste of pizza. Its flavorful cheese and fragrant sauce, melted over a seasoned dough, with a variety of toppings to choose from, actually became my most consumed food growing up. Not by choice, rather it was all I could eat. Say no to plagiarism. Get a Custom Essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”?Get Original Essay Living the “American Dream” was a struggle, especially when both my parents were underemployed, working, and our family was living with a salary to the paycheck. Since money was tight, we would save money wherever we could. We had to pay the bills and the rent, so we saved where it was easiest: food. We would eat out almost every day of the week because it was more affordable than buying groceries and preparing food. We had limited choices for two reasons: We were strictly vegetarian and couldn't afford to drive out every day to access more vegetarian options. We have thus become Renzo's Pizzeria's most loyal customer. Almost every day, my father came home after work with a box of pizza in his hand. Pizza, the food everyone loved, became something I couldn't even look at. It took me back to the times when we struggled the most; the times when we all piled into the same bed; times when “home” meant anything but. When I look back, I wish someone would have helped us; and that's why, when I could, I decided to be the person who helps families like mine. No other subculture of society is treated as poorly as the urban poor. They are often disdained for being lazy or entirely responsible for the circumstances in which they find themselves. Living near the city of Chicago, I have witnessed the poverty that plagues every neighborhood in the city, as well as the stigma associated with the poor. : “Don’t give them money, they will just buy alcohol or cigarettes.” The idea of ​​wanting a hot meal or a place to stay is completely overlooked by anyone who encounters the urban poor. But we can't think like that, it's too humanizing. We treat the poor as if they were inferior to us; we don't treat them the way humans deserve to be treated. Coming from a poor background, I can easily relate to the urban poor. Deeply shaken by the total disregard for the welfare of the homeless, I take matters into my own hands. For many years now, I have been actively involved in distributing food to the homeless in Chicago. My friends and I worked with local restaurants to collect the food they threw away every Friday to distribute to shelters and food pantries across Chicago, feeding those who can't afford a meal. . Additionally, instead of participating in the greedy, materialistic madness of Black Friday, every Black Friday my friends and I buy and prepare traditional Thanksgiving meals to distribute to Chicago's homeless. Giving and serving the poor on a day saturated with self-indulgence is something I take great pride in, and is special and unique to me only. Keep.