Birthdays

It was recently my birthday. I’ve never been big on birthdays. It’s a nice day, you get presents, you’re celebrated, but I know I’m lucky. I have people in my life who celebrate me not only on my birthday. Sometimes on a random Tuesday.

At the facility where I’m working, there’s a young woman about to celebrate her sweet sixteen.
To the credit of the staff and her probation officers, they’re making a big deal out of it. They’re making a big deal- because she has never had a birthday before.

No cake. No candles. No banner. No presents.
No one is singing “Happy Birthday.” Nothing.

Let that settle in. Sixteen years… and not once.

When we talk about privilege, people think of money or education, and yes, those matter.
But I’ve learned that privilege lives in quieter places. Privilege is having a bed to sleep in. Privilege is being seen. Privilege is someone singing “Happy Birthday” to you. Privilege is knowing that you matter.

This young woman is bright, spirited, and full of life. She’s also angry, angry as hell. Shocking, right? What happens to a child who has never been celebrated? What happens when no one ever sings to you, even once? You get mad.

I saw her in a rage attack on camera—it was heartbreaking.
And yet… these kids know how to bounce back. A week later, there she was—excited, planning her birthday, decorating, barely able to contain herself. She can’t read or write fully.
Neither can some of the other girls her age. Another privilege we take for granted.

In our final class of the session, we brought in a poem by Amanda Gorman.
We read it to the girls.

And at the end, these lines:

“At the age of 18, I am experiencing how Black and brown can glow.
And glow I will, glow we will—vibrantly, colorfully; not as a warning, but as a promise, that we will set the sky alight with our magic.”

The birthday girl, who had been so giddy, almost out of control, suddenly grew quiet.
She smiled and said, “Wow… that was good. I have to breathe. I feel calm now.”

Once again, I was reminded of the power of art. The power of words. The power of intention. The power of affirmation.

ADVOT has begun a reentry program called Re-Imagine Possibilities.
We ask a simple question: What do you want? In addition to what you need, what do you want?

What kind of underwear do you want?
What brand of shampoo do you want?

So when they leave the lock-up, they don’t receive a generic bag with random items.
They receive something chosen. Something personal.

People worry that if we ask, the requests will be unreasonable.
They aren’t. Not once has a young person asked for anything beyond something small.
Something human. Usually under $20. Privilege isn’t always in the big things.

It’s in the small ones we barely notice: A birthday cake.
A specific kind of tampon. A clean shirt. A brand of shampoo.

Privilege is having a choice. Injustice is having a choice taken away.

When I brought the birthday cake a few days before the party, the beautiful birthday girl wanted it to stay near her bed - “ Ms. I never had a cake I want to sleep next to it.”
“I understand,” I gently say, “we need to put it in the refrigerator so it stays fresh,”  and I do something I never do, I promise with all I have that she doesn't need to worry, the cake will be there when it's time for the party. I have never prayed so hard for anything as I did for that cake not to be eaten. God was with me - it was not.

Being seen shouldn’t be rare. It shouldn’t be delayed. It shouldn’t be earned.

We celebrate birthdays not because of cake or candles, but because every life deserves to be honored. To be seen.

Every single year. Actually, every single day.