Early in my life, I used books as an escape from the harsh reality in front of me. When I was around five years old, I was trapped in an abusive and sheltered household. When the yelling started, I used to hide under my bed and stay very quiet. I would read any book that I could find to keep my mind off what was happening around me. I made myself a safe space under my bed with a light and pillows. I remember laying under there, wishing that I was one of the characters in my book. I prayed that somehow, I could be transported to another place where I felt safe and loved. However, through all that hardship, I developed a love for literacy. I would become so enthralled in a book that I could read for hours and never once look away. As I got older, I wanted to show children the magic of being swept away by a book. They needed to know that no matter what kind of situation they were in, they could always find a safe place to hide in between those pages. As my life progressed, I saw that I could use my experiences to save young children through literacy. I got a sense of satisfaction from using my hardships to build up the young children in my life. I wish that I had someone there for me while …show more content…
His parents were never home, and when they were, they were catatonic on their couch, engulfed in whatever drug they could get their hands on. He had no support at home and then when he came to school, the teachers never even batted an eye in his direction. In my experience, these kinds of hardships can turn someone into two different kinds of people. They either learn from the mistakes of their parents and rise above the trials and tribulations of their youth, or they succumb to the darkness, drowning and trying to grasp for someone to pull them out of the shadows. He had obviously been driven down the latter path, and I was determined to be the one that pulled him from those depths of