KansasCity.com

When Alanna Laughrey was a little girl, she was afraid to talk in public. Kids would sometimes laugh at her, making cracks about how her mouth twitched and her arms and hands moved in the air to form words. “When I was growing up, I worried about what people thought of me,” she says through American Sign Language interpreter Lori Colwell. “Now, I’ve learned not to care.”

She stands just over 5 feet tall and weighs right at 100 pounds. So small growing up that her parents wanted her in karate so she could protect herself. Her sister took karate, too. “We are small, and people like to step on small people,” says Candace Villanueva, 17, a certified brown belt. Growing up shy and reserved, Candace was the girl in dance class who came alive on the floor but kept to herself in a crowd. So often, Candace felt as small as her stature: until sophomore year at Sumner Academy in Kansas City, Kan. That’s when she tried to enroll in dance class at the high school and it was full. She would have to take debate. At first, she admits, she wasn’t very good. Then she got it. Debate and forensics “helped me find who I am, helped define myself,” she says. “Even though I’m small, I still have a voice. My strength is my voice.”

GeoRell Bullock admits it gets to him when people judge before they know him. “Some people think you’re a bad person, and you’re not,” says GeoRell, 15, a freshman at Van Horn High School in Independence. “They judge either the color of your skin or how you look on the outside.” But then he grins and gives it a positive spin. Pretty sure of himself. “Maybe it makes me more confident about myself to prove them wrong,” he says, his soft-spoken voice making him seem much younger than his age. “I want to show people who I am if they want to be like that.”

Raihannah Shuaib, 16, sees people eyeing her at the grocery store. Or glancing at her when she’s hanging out with friends. Some are judging her. Others just may be curious. “People are always asking me what I’m wearing,” says the teen who wants to study computer science. “They say, ‘How come you wear this?’ “I tell them our lord tells us we have to,” says Raihannah, a Muslim, whose father is African-American and mother Fiji/Indian. “I tell them it’s about modesty.”

When Bubba Starling was a kid, his parents didn’t believe in video games. They didn’t want him inside all day just lying around. “They’d say, ‘Go outside, pick up a football or a ball, do something,” Bubba, 18, says. How smart do Jim and Debbie Starling look now? A senior at Gardner-Edgerton High, Bubba is considered the sixth best high school quarterback in the country. When it comes to a dual threat, a quarterback who can pass and rush, he jumps up to No. 3. Ten Division 1 schools courted him before he even started his senior year. He’s made a verbal commitment to Nebraska (where he would play football and baseball). Around Gardner, in Johnson County, he has movie star status, where little girls want their picture taken with him. Through it all, Bubba shrugs a little and smiles a lot. “People ask for my autograph and I’m like, ‘I’ve never signed an autograph before. What do you want me to do?’ ” he says. “People here are really supportive."

Zachary Nickerson owns four sewing machines, two mannequins. He has designed and created dresses that people actually buy and wear. And if it came down to playing video games or making a run to a Jo-Ann fabric store? Not even close. He’s different, no doubt. And you know what? He’s cool with it. “I’ve always dealt with, ‘Should I stop doing this, or stop doing that, and then people will think I’m cooler?’ ” says Zachary, 14, dressed in a black vest, paisley pink tie and white shirt. “But why live your life when you’re actually living through someone else? I don’t see the point in that.”

Paul Lisbon wants to be a diplomat. Twin brother David wants to be an architect. The two 16-year-olds definitely look alike. But they push — and their parents encourage — separate identities. They go to different high schools, have different friends and different interests. David’s cool to be in jeans and stylish T-shirts, and more times than not, Paul may go for khakis and a collared shirt. When their dad tells them to get in the car, they’re going somewhere, Paul asks where, what they’ll be doing and how long will they be gone.“Paul has to know everything,” says David, who goes to Rockhurst High School. “I don’t really have to know.” For David’s part, he just makes sure he’s wearing a clean shirt, is dressed for the weather and has grabbed his iPod. Paul, a Pembroke Hill junior, is a current events junkie, especially when it comes to politics and can’t wait to vote. He read everything he could on the mid-term elections, soaking in various opinions and facts. He also likes Christmas music and could listen to it (and does sometimes) year-round. The song “Christmas in Kansas City” is a favorite on his iPod. “David thinks when you listen to Christmas music it ruins the authenticity of the season when it comes around,” Paul says, shaking his head.

Paul Lisbon wants to be a diplomat. Twin brother David wants to be an architect. The two 16-year-olds definitely look alike. But they push — and their parents encourage — separate identities. They go to different high schools, have different friends and different interests. David’s cool to be in jeans and stylish T-shirts, and more times than not, Paul may go for khakis and a collared shirt. When their dad tells them to get in the car, they’re going somewhere, Paul asks where, what they’ll be doing and how long will they be gone.“Paul has to know everything,” says David, who goes to Rockhurst High School. “I don’t really have to know.” For David’s part, he just makes sure he’s wearing a clean shirt, is dressed for the weather and has grabbed his iPod. Paul, a Pembroke Hill junior, is a current events junkie, especially when it comes to politics and can’t wait to vote. He read everything he could on the mid-term elections, soaking in various opinions and facts. He also likes Christmas music and could listen to it (and does sometimes) year-round. The song “Christmas in Kansas City” is a favorite on his iPod. “David thinks when you listen to Christmas music it ruins the authenticity of the season when it comes around,” Paul says, shaking his head.

Heaven Friend thinks the world is made up of people trapped in snow globes. Others put us in these glass bubbles, she says, always seeing us the same way. If we dress preppy, must be rich. Wear all black, we’re gloomy and depressed — emotional, emo. So the Park Hill South senior does her best to break out of any globe others put her in. She’s a cheerleading captain on game day, maybe an emo with edgy hair and black eye liner on the weekend. And she’ll put on a pencil skirt and blouse when she wants to be business-y. “I don’t have a specific clique, a specific look or personality,” Heaven, 17, says, wearing her cheerleading outfit on this day. “I don’t want to be stuck to one particular style because I’m not just one style. … It’s fun to cross it over.”