The night I was taken from my mother is one I will never forget. It wasn’t just the alarm of being disconnected from her that scared me, it was the thought of misplacing the one constant in my life: T.A. Sims Basic. That school had been my safe place, the one space where I felt confident, understood, and skilled of imagining about the future. Thankfully, I was not separated from my brother James. From the very start, I made it clear that I could not go whenever without him. Even as a child, I had a simple dream: to build a better life and escape the hard times of our early years together.
At the time, I didn’t know exactly what my future would look like, but I knew I wanted to work hard and create something telling. Living in foster care, I remember asking my foster parents when I could start working and keeping tons of used car magazines as a window into a different life I imagined. I silently promised myself that I would never desert my brother, no matter what though time we faced. That night, a news from the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services described me as intelligent and expressive, noting that I worried about staying in school and outstanding in gifted classes. Reflecting, it’s clear how much school matters to me, it represented craving confidence, reliability, and expert in a life full of hesitation.
Life outside of school was messy. There were days when food was rare and nights when I worried for our safety. But at school, I felt trapped. It offered construction, reliable meals, and a place where I can focus on my life goals. I worked hard to excel, delight in my grades, and cherished the recognition I earned, even if none of it ever made it onto our fridge at home. I tried to be the best student I could, but my tough home life sometimes came with me to class.
A day I will always remember is from a character dress-up event at school. I chose to be Harry Potter. I fashioned spectacles from an old set, cut openings in a black garbage bag for a cape, took a stick as a wand, and had a teacher sketch the lightning bolt scar on my forehead. That morning, I felt thrilled and proud, but when I got to school, peers criticized my outfit. Their laughter filled me with sadness and humiliation. Although I appeared in the winner’s picture, I sensed that my personal battles were apparent, even in my secure environment
At home, I often acted as James’s warden. I walked him to school every day, even if it made me late. On weekends, I found ways to provide food, sometimes selling small items at school. Most weekends, we trusted on chicken sandwiches because that was all we could afford. Nothing in our home felt secure, and even gifts could disappear overnight. One Christmas, I received a guitar through a giveaway. I stayed up late practicing and imagining the music I could make. A week later, it was gone. My mother said it had been stolen, but someone else told me she had sold it. Moments like these were hard, but they made me even more determined to create a different life.
Being adopted changed everything for both James and me. For the first time, we felt love, safety, and stability. When I turned thirteen, my adoptive parents told me I no longer had to care for James and could just relish my childhood. That conversation opened doors to experiences I had never faced before. I engaged in athletics, music, and educational competitions, and my parents made sure I experienced the upbringing I had missed. I traveled to six countries, took part in summer camps, and got involved in activities I had never dreamed of doing as a child.
My life has been profoundly influenced by my parents and teachers. Their encouragement and faith in me motivated me to reach for goals I once deemed unattainable. I recall submitting an essay at the last minute and earning a perfect score, but then my mom returned it to my teacher and requested a lower grade because she believed I could achieve more. That experience showed me the significance of diligence, integrity, and commitment in all my endeavors.
Today, I work in schools that serve students from challenging backgrounds. I want to show them that their circumstances do not define their potential. Every conversation, every check-in in the hallway or at lunch, is an opportunity to show students that someone sees them and believes in them. My journey wasn’t easy, but it shaped who I am and why I do this work. My biggest hope is to keep making a difference, showing students that with support and determination, they can overcome their challenges too.
