When you can hardly read there is no preparing for the SATs. I knew I had to wing it. I was what I was and I couldn't change that. But giving up was not an option, it would be like laying down to die. It is a life mission, to be what I can possibly be and come as close to my dreams as possible. As a seventeen year old there was no giving up. I would try all day at school. I would go home tired and I would often sleep it off. My heroes did not know what was wrong, or even if there was something wrong. So they encouraged me to go on.
My older brother had learning problems, he never once talked about them. He did well in school as long as he did not have to write essays. He was all about math, he could do amazing things with math. I know now that he became an Eagle Scout because he could not give up either. He had to fight his way through school, the after school fighting. He seen it as just being build like a wrestler and all the boys challenging him. Looking back I know it was his paranoia and inability to be the social one. I know they made fun of him in their little boy ways. Kids show aggression to those who are different, because of race, or anything that is different. It is their own fear of the unknown. In Chicago when he was in grade school he was the minority white kid that was chased and had to fight. If the kids ganged up on him he had to out run them. Mom said he would barely make it each day to the door of their flat.
He was my hero because he would encourage me to keep trying. I did not know how I was going to pass the test, but I had to try. The day was quickly coming. I knew it would be a long shot.
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