I remember when I was in elementary school my family members would describe what life was like back home in Liberia. It was extremely different from life here in America, from the 14-year civil war that displaced Liberians all across the globe to the joys of climbing up coconut trees. All of the stories I heard made me want to be more involved with my culture and made me love everything that come with being a Liberian. In July of 2008, my brother, father and I went on a one month vacation to Monrovia, Liberia. As the pilot announced, “You have reached your destination,” I thought, I’ve waited for this moment all my life and now I’m finally here. Many people were fascinated that an 11-year-old American child would be so enthusiastic about being in Africa. My trip to Liberia made me to see what life is like in Liberia and it also gave me a direct connection with the people there. I was focused on seeing the palm trees that my dad use to climb as a young boy and seeing the house where my mother grew up. At nighttime, all of the kids in neighboring houses would come to my aunt’s house to watch a movie. Being there made me realize how so many kids my age don’t have what I have and it made me appreciate the little things. But now that the topic of Ebola is making headlines, so many people have been stigmatizing and discriminating against Liberians. When my parents look on their phones and see that it is a call coming from Liberia, they don’t know—is this person calling to say that someone in the family has contacted the virus? Or that the hospitals in Liberia are full and won’t be taking in patients, what do we do? Meanwhile, a lot of single-minded individuals have ignorant things to say. So how do they think that makes me feel? Every day as I walk the halls of my school, students chant, “EBOLA!” and I have seen adults entertain it. Educators who are helping to develop the next generation should take action to limit ignorant comments, especially if it is about such a serious matter as Ebola. In early September, my entire class received a newsletter from one of the teachers in my school. The teacher’s main objective was to update the senior class on various major events taking place around the world, including in Africa and the Middle East. The letter mentioned that Staten Island has the largest population of Liberians outside of Liberia, and if there were to be an outbreak in the U.S., there is a very high chance that it would be here on Staten Island. I was astounded and infuriated because statements like this encourage ignorance. As a Liberian, I felt as though the teacher was trying to tell the students to stay away from me. Why single out Liberians that way? When the first case of Ebola was diagnosed in New York City, I said, “Thank God” to myself—not because I’m heartless, but for the simple fact that this individual was not a Liberian. Ebola does not look for a specific group of people to prey on. Its ulterior motive is to find a host to be able to survive. I want my peers to understand that. But most importantly, Ebola is a virus; Liberians are not. Princess Yates is a high school student living in Staten Island.