It was particulary interesting at my school because in the time period of four years which I had attented, I had four principles, three art teachers, and two gym teachers. They all had quit or gotten fired. My art teacher called everyone in my class a "stupid [expletive along racist nature]" and kissed her job away in the same breathe. The next art teacher, some female version of Bobby Ross told us it was because her mom was sick that she quit but we all knew that wasn 't true. To get back on track kindergarten was where it all began. My mom was a para and school was easy enough for me. I had tons of friends, did well enough besides the fact I was dyslexic and a little behind. I read a lot, and still do occasionally. I progressed along, when things got weird, I knew things other kids didn 't, and completely failed to produce results where it I should have long ago. I couldn 't repeat the alphabet without help until I was seven, tie my shoes until the fourth grade, multiply until the fifth. I had gone to a school in florida from first to third grade or so, and it wasn 't very good there. There was an occasion where an armed man had tried to shoot up the school and we all sat there for hours, terrified. Young children just sitting there, in the dark during a "code red". I was absent minded so I don 't remember much in Florida other than that, and three other things- My gym teacher indirectly made me break my …show more content…
I still don 't really. I 've been arrested before, but never charged with anything. I 've done wrong, made mistakes, but made them right in some way in the end. My life isn 't that great, but it 's not bad either. I 'm leaving stuff out for some reasons, but these things are the main things I wanted to share I suppose. I hardly know my family, the ones I do, I don 't get along with incredibly well, I used to get beat up by my cousin, left by my friends, and made fun of a lot. I move every year or two because my dad usually just wants to, and probably will out of state again soon. I 've changed a lot. I don 't even know who I am anymore to be honest. I don 't know what my future holds or what I want out of it, besides a family that I make happy and do right by. One that doesn 't know pain, living in multiple states, and doesn 't know their own family. I want to be someone my father is proud of, someone who helps others out, and someone who is remembered as a nice guy, and if i 'm not, well, I guess not everything is perfect anyway so who cares? I feel like the roads are pathed, and we are all just trains on the tracks. The footsteps behind us always are going to point to the ones