Lee McConville, 23, Birmingham

A lot of politicians are quick to point the finger at young people but they live in a completely different world. What would they know about growing up in a deprived area plagued with drugs, guns, prostitution and gangs? To see people smoking crack in phone boxes, heroin addicts injecting under the subways, and prostitutes waving down cars on your way home from school? Born and raised in Lozells, Birmingham, an area plagued with gun crime, drugs, prostitution and gangs and infamous for its 2005 race riots, I forever found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was lucky to walk away without being arrested or stabbed. A friend of mine was not so lucky - he was shot dead on his 20th birthday. Two weeks later, another friend was gunned down in broad daylight. A lot of young people are growing up with no role models and nothing to do. As a result, they're binge drinking, selling drugs and stealing cars. After taking part in a mentoring scheme run by the Media Trust, I have rubbed shoulders with world leaders, interviewed the prime minister, and am now on a journalism course. The government needs to invest more in charity organisations such as Fairbridge, so they can change young people's lives for the better and, in some cases, save their lives.

• Formerly supported by youth charity Fairbridge.

Dan Tait, 19, Basingstoke, Hampshire

I was once nearly killed by a student. He expressed his homophobic hatred by strangling me in front of a teacher and other pupils. I retaliated, and we were both excluded for three days. I was left with heavy bruising on my neck. When I went back, I felt vulnerable and like a victim. I'll never forget the moment when my head of year told me I was inspirational to all students. He told me I should be proud of coming out. I scraped through GCSEs and did a further education course. Research by Stonewall shows that if pupils experience homophobia at school, they are less likely to go on to further education. The biggest problem in tackling homophobia is raising awareness for people who lived in a generation where being gay was socially unacceptable. The government needs to give schools guidance on dealing with homophobia and, more importantly, on how to prevent it. Local authorities need to make sure there is a safe place for lesbian, gay and bisexual people to go that offers support with dealing with homophobia at home, coming out and depression. Homophobia will only be addressed when the people with the power decide to act upon it.

• Member of Stonewall Youth Volunteer programme

Jason Sharrocks, 22, Rochdale, Greater Manchester

I have been out of prison for six months, yet every day I'm still being punished. Since the age of 13, I have been committing offences due to homelessness and family breakdown. I started committing crimes to feed myself or for somewhere to sleep. Then over the years, the crimes got worse, until I received a six-year prison sentence for street robbery, blackmail and numerous theft charges. I was 17. I'm now 22 and my sentence is over - or should be. Since being released from prison, the biggest problem I have, and think will always have, is prejudice. I'm discriminated against for being an ex-offender in almost every aspect of my life. In the four prisons I was in, I gained qualifications in catering, health and fitness, warehouse management, as well as two forklift truck licences, and yet I still can't find a job. I live off £60 benefit every two weeks that I give straight to my best friend, whose sofa I occupy. I could easily go out and commit a crime to earn myself some money for things I need, but no matter how many doors get closed on me I'm not going to give in because I want a better life.

• Supported by the charity User Voice

Hassnain Khan, 14, Slough, Berkshire

A 15-year-old Sikh boy at my school ran away last month because he was bullied; he was gone for three days before he came home. It is difficult to understand why some young people get bullied and others don't. Sometimes I get picked on by older boys in my school - they call me names like "dopey". I wish people would just leave each other alone.

• Member of youth conflict resolution charity Aik Saath

Alexandra McKenzie, 20, Newcastle upon Tyne

My peers and I have been told that "the sky's the limit", thanks to encouragement from parents and teachers. As a university student, I've had to work hard and I've escaped obstacles such as failing my exams. However, the recession has left students like me wondering if our possibilities really are so limitless. Many don't fully understand the ins and outs of the current economic crisis; only the closing down of the local Woolworths really brought home the situation. Recession or no recession, graduation is a daunting concept. And with small businesses closing, term-time jobs are increasingly hard to come by, but as companies are unable to pay us for internships or work experience, such part-time employment is valuable. After creating schemes that have allowed students from a range of socio-economic backgrounds to pursue higher education, the government should now ensure that those who can't afford to accept unpaid experience are not pushed off the job ladder before they even reach it.

Adam Smith, 26, Nottingham

I was nine when I met my first girlfriend. Since then, I've had quite a few. I'm not shy and I'm independent, so I've had a lot of opportunities to meet people. I don't find it difficult, but there are a lot of other young people with learning disabilities who do. I think there are also worries about people with learning disabilities having relationships. You shouldn't wrap people up in cotton wool just because they've got a disability. I started internet dating five years ago and it's a good way to get talking to people. Facebook is also good. But young people need more places to go. It's not always easy for people with learning disabilities to get around. Sometimes you have to take five buses to get somewhere, or the buses run at stupid times. I've set up my own social club with other people supported by United Response. About 30 people come along and we chat and I DJ. There should be more clubs like this, and the government should send out a survey to young people with learning disabilities to ask them what they want to do. People need the opportunity to try something new.

• Supported by learning disability charity United Response

Sarah Kigozi, 17, London

I take care of my 16-year-old autistic brother and also my mother, who has a form of cancer, non-Hodgkin lymphoma. My brother spits, speaks in phrases rather than full sentences, and is hyperactive. He has a mental age of six or seven and attends a special day school. I've helped take care of him since I was about nine. As well as supporting my mum through her illness, my responsibilities involve interpreting, as her first language is not English. I read and type letters, deal with bills and forms, make phone calls and book appointments. My day usually starts at 5.30am and ends at 11pm. School is disrupted about twice every three months. Carers miss out on the simple things, such as feeling like a child, or going out in public with those you care for without everyone staring like they are some abnormal thing. Those "in power" could start by adding lessons to the school curriculum that explore disabilities and health issues. Right now, I'm concentrating on my A-levels, and I want to do a degree in psychology. One of my ambitions is to build schools in less developed countries to provide free education to children with special needs.

• Supported by Barnado's Indigo Project for disabled young people and the Children's Society Young Carers' Project

Gemma Ray, 16, Northampton

I gave birth to my son, Ellis, now 13 months, before my 16th birthday. When I found out I was pregnant, I was really scared and confused. My mum got over it really quickly and supported me, whereas my dad didn't talk to me for ages. It was really hard on me, but now he is really supportive and loves his grandson. When the people at school found out I was pregnant one person smacked me in the stomach and said, "Bet you ain't pregnant now." I was transferred to a school for teenage mums. Walking round town was the hardest thing I ever had to do when I was pregnant. Strangers on the bus looked down on me and called me "slag" or "whore". At the specialist school I had a lot of support, not just from the teachers, but also from the students as we were all in the same situation. Since coming to the YWCA I am very confident and don't care what people think. I know I'm a good mum and I'm proud of my son. I want to attend college in September to do A-levels, and then do a counselling course and see where life takes me from there.

• Supported by charity YWCA

Samia Meah, 19, London

When I say the word "homeless", people visualise someone sitting on the street in a cardboard box, looking terrible and perhaps even shouting at traffic. This bothers me as I am friends with many homeless young people who are far from this stereotype. It bothers me more as I am one of them. We are a group of people in society that people are often unaware of. We are homeless, but we live in temporary accommodation - hostels with a minuscule room or maybe a room shared with strangers. I live in shared accommodation, with support from staff at the homelessness charity Centrepoint. There are people who have suffered with domestic violence, abandonment, immigration, self-harm and sheer neglect. These are people who did not begin life with a fair chance. Yet here they are, my friends who have overcome these devastating situations and have the will not only to carry on but also excel at what they do. Next time you hear the word "homeless", keep in mind that not all of us are shouting at the morning rush hour traffic.

• Supported by homelessness charity Centrepoint

Eadie McCarthy Orr, 15, Shaftesbury, Dorset

My family, friends and I are discriminated against every day, just because we are travellers. I live with my parents and two brothers on a double-decker bus, and my parents have always stayed in the same area so I don't change schools. It's not a very nice thing to grow up with the feeling that people hate you just because of the way you live and judge you before they even meet you just because they've heard something bad about a traveller. I've been called "gippo" and "thief" by children at school. It used to upset me, but no one ever went any further than calling me names. There probably are bad travellers out there who steal and stuff, but there are also bad people out there who live in houses, and who steal and do bad things. But I don't stereotype people. And no matter what their race, gender, sex or size, neither should anyone else stereotype because it's never nice to be the person on the receiving end.

• Supported by the Children's Society

Rachel Haddon, 21, Preston, Lancashire

Who am I? A 21-year-old female? Student? Mental illness and eating disorder sufferer? Self-harmer? Vegetarian? Or an animal lover? I am all of these things, yet none of these things. I am just me. If diagnoses were put on the end of your surname, like qualifications, I would look rather qualified! But these labels don't aid and benefit me like qualifications would. It is time professionals stopped treating people as disordered statistics, and instead saw us as people. After all, everyone has problems, don't they? Over the years I have met many so-called "professionals" who apparently excel in their field. But most have actually made me feel worse. I don't doubt that generally their intentions have been good, but they have just diagnosed, medicated and hospitalised me. Of course, that is often necessary, but the most important and helpful "treatment" is to be listened to and believed. It's not rare to see a headline such as "Prisoner with personality disorder attacks staff." Is it any wonder that most people think having a personality disorder shows that you are a dangerous, reckless, violent criminal? The hope of recovery sometimes seems impossible in a world that functions on stereotypes and stigma.

• Member of mental health charity YoungMinds' Very Important Kids panel.

Meet the editors

This special edition of SocietyGuardian was produced with the help of a young editorial panel, co-ordinated by the National Youth Agency's Young Researcher Network and the Coalition for Young People, a campaigning group of seven youth charities. Our guest panel comprises: Dominique Mitchell, 18, and Mu-Hamid Pathan, 16, from Leicester; Declan Best, 17, and Amie Hibbert, 17, from Somerset; Amrita Ghosh, 15, and Naushin Shariff, 18, from London.