The Early Years

Every story has a beginning. My story like many started good! I never wanted for anything growing up in our lower middle class Catholic home. However, I hated school and was a horrible student at my parochial elementary and High Schools. Without a doubt I would have received and ADHD diagnosis and been on medication if there had been such a thing when I was in elementary school. The D's that filled my report card were never a surprise to my parents. I was lucky to sit still in my chair at school long enough to even pull that off. 

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Sister Cleatus used to stand me in the front of the class and say I'd never amount to anything. As you can imagine these hurtful worlds had great power over my young mind, and they haunted me for years as I passed through each grade by cheating. The truth is they still haunt me. Consequently, I have never read a book cover to cover except for the "The Cat in the Hat" and the "Bible". I once tried to read the Cliff Notes for "The Catcher in the Rye, but even that left me mystified and I abandoned those short pages also. 

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This website is about the power of God to overcome. However allow me to say this... if you are an educator or anyone who influences children for a living, understand the power of worlds. The bible says that your words can build up, or destroy (Ephesians 4:29) They can bring life or they can bring death. (Proverbs 18:21) How different my life might have been for e if Sister Cleatus had understood and taken seriously the power of her words? 

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Have you ever seen a "dunce cap" in a book, movie or TV show? The stupidest student or the one who go in trouble would have to wear this big cone of a hat and stand facing the corner in shame in front of the whole class. That happened to me in Sister Cleatus's classroom often. I was utterly humiliated and my hatred of school was further cemented by the ridicule and shame of this experience. 

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The kids at school never gave me any slack either. My goals for the day often involved making it through the day without getting in a fight. As the tall skinny kid, I looked different and that alone is enough to get a kid in elementary school picked on. On the occasions when the other kids got to me enough, I was een more terrified of what I'd face at home. 

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My parents loved me, but they didn't put up with any trouble-making at school. My mom tried to help me with school, and maybe that's why I hot D's instead of F's. My dad was kind to me and I could not ask for much more in a father. He taught me things, we had many great conversations. He drank a lot but he wasn't a mean drunk, and frankly, I never thought much about it. I assumed everybody's dad drank like that. He was a salesman and often took clients out for food and drinks. Wasn't that normal?  I loved him. 

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Both of my parents were available to support me and listen to what I was going through. If I would have stuck around home throughout my teen years and continued that open communication with my family, perhaps I would not have fallen in love with drugs the way that I did. But I did fall in love with them, and that was truly the start of a hard life.