She fought for me when no one else would, at least not when I was a child. She was the one who made sure no child was left behind. It was her who helped me become a writer in the first place. She did not ignore me or leave me behind when I had a flashback she may not have understood the depth of my home life, but she tried to make me feel better. These are things I learned from someone who under my breath I called mom. The federal government gets paid to represent, but a true author guides society to make it better. Cordray had a book that she read all the time: the ugly duckling, or the three blind mice things like that were entertaining and had a positive message. However what did i learn reading it, the answer, nothing. Such stories like Goosebumps, yes, it was very entertaining. Changing society with creativity, which is actually better for reading, then what we have now. If you want to end abuse, stop trying to entertain and start doing your job. The person who started this should be aware that there are multiple levels of abuse and the worse form is when the child loses the ability to take care of themselves, has to be cared for and who do you think, is going to step up 80% of the time it is the one who caused the damage in the first place, either directly or indirectly. The #saveourkids can only work when you help those who were never helped, never heard, never spoken for. In order to have equality in humanity, first you have to know the truth that black people are one of many important parts of humanity, that when one part is being targeted in a species it weakens and leads to the extinction of that species. Now we have #saveourkids and #blacklivesmatter, both groups are wrong but they are also right. I am still owed a chance to get justice, and nobody has ever wanted to hear the schizo talking delusional thoughts or how someone really is feeling and this is taught everyday back when i was in school. It was the reasoning they used when i was getting disciplined. I have plenty to write and to be honest i hate the idea of money. I was always told that a real author speaks of what they know not to come up with something that they have no experience in. She was the one who sent me to the nurse when I came to class crying and walking with a limp from the congo line we had to stand in earlier. Right now i am remembering the person who taught me that i was dangerously clingy, and kept telling me that my name was not stupid or that i was wanted, that all she wanted was my name on the top of the paper. I misspell a lot of words because as i think of doing one thing i can not think of another. i have to type as i think there is no way i can take a break without messing up. And just so you are aware as I write these stories and I add the punctuation last. If i was able to get her to see the importance she has made in our lives that would be great. You see having a learning disability is not what you think it is where most children are able to look and think clearly, others like me have to observe patterns and that area is what Ms. Well let me get back to this very important person in my childhood. No that does not exist, it is not racism either the poor no matter what pigmentation we have that get treated poorly. I guess if you do not have money you do not matter in this society. How in the world did my poor white self get hurt by so many for so long and not once get the help I have begged for for so long? How can you see a picture of a child with bruises and always starts panicking close to the end of the day, when they had to go home. Did you know in the early 2000s and mid 90s all you had to say that the child was your step son and he had to be disciplined to get the officer to let you off with “ I understand, have a good day.” and if that officer actually was doing their job they would have talked to the person who actually had custody of me which was my mother. I always wanted a hug, she never knew why i guess, if she did she would have let me stay in the school while things were being checked. I do not know if she remembers me, I was the loveable kid who had a little devil in his pocket. She was my teacher from ELC close to special educations teacher Ms. However there was this one person in my childhood who taught me so much in life. To this day I have a really hard time reading, things just do not make sense to me. Drugs and alcohol do affect children's progress in life. When I was little I was unable to read and write like others my age, my progress in school was hindered by my parents doing things when they were young. The only blood we had in common was my mothers. Do not get me wrong I am unable to hate my mother, no matter how many things that were allowed to happen. My mother had six kids, two husbands and a bar meet. Creative Nonfiction Coming of Age Friendship
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