I walk through my inner city high school, laughing with friends and joking about teachers and assignments that we'll probably never get around to doing. We're all the same, on the inside, but I stand out. I'm the Jewish girl among my African-American peers, and I'll always be the different one.

I don't notice it often, but when I do, every once in a while it bothers me. I'll wear my Star of David necklace and someone will ask, “You're Jewish?” And then I'll respond with a meek yes, and try to change the subject. But I never can. They always want more. “So, you don't go to church on Sunday?” And I have to explain, once again, that I attend “church” on Saturday.

It's not that I don't like being Jewish – I do. It's just that not many people in my city, or my school, know anything about the culture or practices of the Jewish people.

I'm no different from my peers, for the most part. I do homework, compete on the swim team, practice my instruments, and eat dinner. But we always eat as a family, and my mom, younger sisters, and I pray both before and after the meal, in English and sometimes Hebrew. There are few things that separate us from other families, but nobody takes the time to see that.

“So, you don't celebrate Christmas? How could somebody not celebrate Christmas?” I sigh, smile, and explain that I don't celebrate Christmas, and no, I don't even put up a Christmas tree. I light a menorah every night for eight nights, though, and that can be fun.

My peers don't know what a dreidel is, or a potato latke, so I explain how the game is played, and probably tell the story of how when my boyfriend came over for Chanukah last year, he ate four latkes, which is saying a lot because he's picky.

“What about your boyfriend? Is he Jewish?” No, he's not Jewish, I respond. He's African-American. I don't have to date Jewish guys, but I do date guys who respect me for my goals and dreams and for who I am, regardless of religion.

The other students usually get a weird look at this point, and then finish by raising their eyebrows and saying “Wow.” They are not judgmental, and I respect and love them for that. I just laugh it off and change the subject slickly: “So, did anyone finish the definitions for bio?” They all laugh at me then; if they did the homework, they're not going to admit it.

I'm just a teenage girl. I don't have time to be different – I'm too busy doing my homework, filling out scholarship applications, talking to my boyfriend, arguing with my sister over who gets to use the phone, and obsessing about my hair. I never asked to be different, never wanted to be. But ­despite the fact that I'm Jewish and I look different from my peers, I can't think of anywhere I'd rather go to school or anywhere I'd rather live.