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I’m Liam, 18, and for as long as I can remember, my life has smelled like diesel, bleach, and garbage. My dad died in a construction accident when I was little, and my mom had to drop out of nursing school to support us. She became a sanitation worker, earning the nickname “the trash lady,” and I became “trash lady’s kid.”
School was brutal. Kids teased me, mocked my mom’s job, and I ate lunch alone every day. But at home, I never complained—my mom had enough to carry. I promised myself I’d make her sacrifices worth it.
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