Reality

You're 6 years old and in the 1st grade. You go to school every day and are expected to learn. You go to school to learn how to make friends and develop skills.

There's a problem though. You can't read very well. You don't know your numbers. You can barely write your name, let alone hold a pencil correctly. Reading is impossible; if you don't know your letters, how are you expected to put them together to form words? You don't get breakfast in the morning, because your mother doesn't have the time or energy to cook for you. Your only meal of the day is the free lunch you get, and that barely gets you through the day. She's consumed in her own mess: she is raising 3 kids by herself, and dad just got arrested on a felony charge, so he won't be around for a LONG time. She also has her own issues; depressed, using alcohol and partying at night to suppress her own pain.

She didn't even care to send you to kindergarten or even a free Head Start pre-school. You're 6, and already so far behind.

You get to school late every day. The teacher is already at her wits end; "You're supposed to be here on time young man!" You nod your head, not even understanding what that means. I'm here, aren't I? Mom said you need to teach me, so what does it matter if I'm late?

Every task is a challenge. Paying attention in class is impossible; this is your first experience in school, and everyone else can write their name and knows their ABC's and 123's. You haven't learned the simple skill of sitting still or standing in a line. The smallest stimuli, the quietest whisper from someone has you turned around looking for what happened. When you do that, every adult is on your case. YOUNG MAN! TURN AROUND, ARMS FOLDED! WALK IN A STRAIGHT LINE!


Given all these, you're going to act out in class. You are going to get frustrated, so when someone says something you don't like, you will swing and kick. You will flip over a desk and scream. You will tell a teacher to "shut up" and that you "don't like her old ass". When Mom get's called, you know her routine: she'll wag her finger, tell you to "act better", not show you what that means, then go right back to the bottle. When the teachers have no idea how to help, the young man gets sent to...me.

I might be the boy's last hope for success, to learn, grow, and eventually move away from his dysfunctional life and live that American Dream we all seek. And he's only 6.