John

John, 44 at the time of this interview, attended The Literacy Project’s Pioneer Valley Adult Education Center in Northampton. Here, he reflects on having a family and coming back to school after many years of “living on the street.”

I don’t remember too much about kindergarten or first grade, you know.  It was hard for me.  I didn’t comprehend like every other student in the class.  People can write down faster than I could.  Do the math better than I could.  And we have a spelling test.  The teachers throw it out, instead of handing it back to me.  I think that was in the third grade. 

“ I didn’t comprehend like every other student in the class.”

They found out I had a learning disability.  They asked for a psychiatrist to see what level you’re at.  You have to look at eight blocks.  They’d give you little colored blocks, red and white.  You had to make certain patterns of them.  I could make a couple of patterns.  But the other patterns were hard.  Then you have to connect the dots.  Or you had to write a little story.  I hadn’t learned any spelling, and my writing wasn’t good, and I couldn’t comprehend anything else.  And I had a speech problem.  I couldn’t say the letter ‘l.’ And I would talk too fast. 

It was rough, you know.   People picked on you because you got a speech problem, stuttering problem, learning problem.  People picked on you because you were like – like an outsider.  So that’s why I grew up fighting a lot.  That’s why I’ve shied off from people.  You could say I was a loner. 

“People picked on you because you got a speech problem, stuttering problem, learning problem. ”

I think I completed tenth grade.  My parents asked me if I wanted to continue going to school.  I said, “I’m quitting.”  You’re around the streets, hanging out all hours of the night.  Causing chaos.  Looking for trouble.  That was my education.  Street education. 

After I left [school], we went to try to make a better life.  My father decided we would go to Puerto Rico, this is the way to get a better life.  But we got over there – it was chaos.  My father was an alcoholic.  Instead of staying to find a job, he hit the bottle.  [When] I was growing up, he was drinking on the weekends.  But then he got ill, he got sick, and so he started drinking more.  

“I was about 15 or 16, and I started hitting the streets. ”

When I come back from Puerto Rico, I was about 15 or 16, and I started hitting the streets.  And that’s where I lived for about 25 years.  In and out, going here, working here, not keeping a job, not having a good education, no diploma.  You just get the job you can get, you know, like cutting grass, raking leaves, cleaning stuff.  That’s the only kind of job I could get. 

“In and out, going here, working there, not keeping a job, not having a god education, no diploma. ”

I met this woman, I thought maybe I can settle down.  She was about seventeen, I was about nineteen.  We had a daughter together.  Then a year later we have another daughter.  And instead of settling down, I was on the streets, back on the streets again.  I couldn’t get a job, so I started selling drugs.  To keep the family going.  Then she wouldn’t have me.  She wanted to be free.  So she dropped off my daughter at my mother’s, gave my mother custody.  Put the other one in the foster home.  I couldn’t supply for my daughter what I can’t supply for myself.  So I gave her up, too, to foster care. 

At the time, I didn’t know if I was a good father or a bad father.  I was too much on alcohol and drugs.  I didn’t know whether I was coming or going.  So the best for me there – I put the girls in homes and pray that they could get involved and they could get what I couldn’t get from my parents.  What my parents couldn’t give to me, I couldn’t give to my daughters.  Only thing I could give to my daughters was to learn how to run the streets. And I didn’t want them to end up like I was.  So I decided to put them in a foster home, so that way they could get adopted to some decent parents. 

“What my parents couldn’t give to me, I couldn’t give to my daughters. ”

I got myself in the run with the law.  I got picked up for a controlled substance.  Cocaine.  I did 100 hours community service.  Get up every morning, every Saturday morning for like three or four hours.  Clean the streets, pick up the garbage on the sidewalks, down in the park.  See you on the back of the dump trunk, everybody in town see you. 

“Only thing I could give to my daughters was to learn how to run the streets. And I didn’t want them to end up like I was.”

I moved up here from New York State.  My brother got married, so he decided to move the family up here.  So I moved up here a year later.  I lived in Northampton Lodges for about eight months.  Then I moved in with my sister’s ex and his son.  And he was coming here, too, at The Literacy Project.  And we were talking about it, “You know, maybe you could go to school.”  And, “Let me think about it.”  Because I didn’t know anybody.  So I decided.  I made an appointment.  I went in there, took the intake.  To see how my reading level was.  And when I went in there, it was not so hot.  So I came to the morning class.  I’ve been there…it’s almost about five years.

“Trying to learn the math, reading. It was hard for me. For a guy who had no reading, no skills, just street wise. It was rough.”

The first few years, it was rocky for me.  After so many years on the streets, and then coming in the door, not knowing anything.  You come off the streets, from New York, to try to live in a new area, new town, you don’t know anybody… Trying to learn the math, reading.  It was hard for me.  For a guy who had no reading, no skills, just street wise.  And then staying here, coming to school every day, it was rough. 

What I know now, it’s a miracle.  It’s amazing.  Six years sober.  I’m still here.  I’m trying to get my GED.  I got a lot of work to do, still a lot of work.  Still have a lot of work on math.  So next practice test, I want to try for my reading and writing, see how far I came on that one.  I made a lot of progress. 

[I‘d like to] work with other people.  A counselor or something.  Because I been through a lot.  Someone who’s going through it now, like I went through – maybe help them out before it’s too late.  Because all my siblings, we all was like that.  But everybody decided to get straightened out.  My brother, my sister…  We’re all doing okay today, by the grace of God. 

“What I know now, it’s a miracle. It’s amazing. Six years sober. I’m still here. I’m trying to get my GED.”

I got married.  This is the first time I got married in my life.  I got married.  My wife [and I,] we both go to school together.  We both want to get our GEDs.  Try to be better parents.  She’s been through a lot, too.  She was from the same town I’m from.  She came looking for me. 

[Our son,] he’s a beautiful kid.  Beautiful kid.  I love the guy.  A little wise, but he’s smart.  He’s smart.  He loves school.  He loves doing more work.  He loves it.  I wish I knew when I was six years old what he knows today. 

[I’m] trying to be a husband and a father at the same time.  In the beginning, it was rough.  Because you know, nobody teaches you how to be a parent, how to be a father.  But you know what? It was okay.  It is okay today.  I can say we love each other.  I can be a husband, a father, a friend, an uncle, a brother, today. 

Ralph

Ralph, 41 at the time of this interview, was a student at The Literacy Project’s Pioneer Valley Adult Education Center in Northampton.  Raised in Florence, MA, he now lives in South Hadley with his wife.  His goal is to get his GED and graduate from cooking school, before he turns 50. 

I was an out-of-control kid.  I got into fights.  Because the kids would call me stupid and I’d fight them after school.  They sent me to a private school, and the teachers treated you like they’re all mighty and you’re down at the bottom of the ladder.  And I didn’t like that too much.  I got in fights with the teachers.  I was taken out of school at 13 years old [by my parents].  Never forced to go back into school.  Nothing. 

I got a job at a recycling plant, because of my size.  I was 295 pounds at 13.  So they thought I was older.  Do you know any other 13-year-old kid who has a job making $450 a week?  What 13-year-old kid needs $450?  He’s happy if he gets $10.  Or $5.  If I could reverse time and go back and be 13 again, I would stay in the school.  I would never take myself out.  I didn’t understand why [they] took me out.  

“If I could reverse time and go back and be 13 again, I would stay in school.”

My mother worked in a nursing home for nineteen, twenty years.  My father worked in National Felt in Easthampton.  He was the first one in when the door opened.  He worked there for thirty-five, forty years.  And I’d like to get in that number.  My brother-in-law is my hero.  He’s been at Hamilton Papers in Holyoke for going on almost thirty years.  And he was sixteen, seventeen when he went in.  I want to be one of them people.  Proud to say I’ve had a job for twenty years, forty years.  I don’t want to be known as a ball, bouncing job to job. 

“I lost a lot of jobs because I couldn’t read right.”

I’ve had all my life people calling me stupid because I didn’t know how to read.  People calling me all different names because of my size.  I’m 365 pounds.  I’m a big guy.  I lost a lot of jobs because I couldn’t read right, or I wasn’t fast enough.  I had a couple of bosses call me slow.  I had a job let me go ‘cause I moved too slow.  I just want somebody who’s going to come in and say, “You move slow.  That’s all right.  If you move too fast, you could break things.”  And when somebody says you move too slow, it makes me cry, one.  I don’t care if anybody knows about that.  And it makes me feel like I’m less than human.  I’m a human being.  I got feelings. 

I don’t like people talking down to me.  It gets me mad.  Because before you got the job of an employer, you were the employee.  You were in the same boat that I was.  They talk down like you don’t have any smarts.  Maybe I don’t have any smarts.  But I do know how to talk to people and get my word across without talking down to them.

“I don’t like people talking down to me. ... Because before you got the job of an employer, you were an employee. You were in the same boat that I was.”

I’m not slow.  I have a disorder of reading and math.  Last week I helped my brother-in-law.  His water pump broke on his truck.  I never put a water pump in a truck, but I took over.  Seven o’clock in the morning, I had the water pump out and the new one in at quarter to eight.  Without reading the instructions.  I don’t have to read the instructions.  I look at the paper, look at the design, and I put it all together.  He kept on thanking me because, one, I did the work, and, two, there was no leakage.  I was so proud.  But I don’t want to go through that anymore.  I don’t mind doing stuff, but I want to know how to read. 

“I’m not slow. I have a disorder of reading and math. ”

I’ve been doing cleaning cars without reading for almost 29 years.  The correct word is a professional detailer.  I buff, wax, shampoo the whole car, make a dirty car look like it just came off the showroom.  You got to know what kind of chemicals to use on a motor.  You got to know what kind of chemicals to use on everything.  29 years, I’ve never had no complaints, thank God.  But I second guess myself when I’m using chemicals.  That’s what slows me down. 

I finally told my wife after nine years that I have a reading disorder.  She said, “Well, I’ll just help you out the best I can.”  My wife is a very nice person.  I’m not saying that because she’s married to me.  She used to write the [job] applications out.  But [now] I write the applications out, but I have her make sure I have spelt the word right.  So she’s like my teacher, too.  Having someone in my life, and having teachers understand me, is making it a lot easier to admit it.  I admit it to people I talk to who don’t have anything to do with the classroom here. 

“I finally told my wife after nine years that I have a reading disorder.”

[My wife] gets mad at me when I say I’m stupid.  I get really upset when I can’t figure something out and just come out and say, “I’m stupid.”  And man, that’s a mistake saying that around my wife.  Because she knows I’m not.  Streetwise, I’m a very smart guy.  I can recognize a bologna artist.  I’ve been around them a lot, and sometimes I have to be one.  When I lived on the street for two years when I was sixteen, I had to realize who was telling the truth.   The way you tell is the way I’m looking at you, I’m looking you right at the eyes.  If somebody’s lying to you, they’ll just look all over the place.  Well, I’m not a liar.  I’ll tell you honestly that I love coming to this program. 

“Having someone in my life, and having teachers understand me, is making it a lot easier to admit it.”

I felt uncomfortable coming in the door, but after sitting down and talking to Lynne [Paju, Site Director], my teacher, I didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore.  I felt at ease. The teachers are here to help you.  They make you feel comfortable.  I told Lynne one time, ‘I feel stupid.’  She said, “No, you’re not stupid.  You have a reading disorder, and we’re here to help you.”  When you come through that front door, the teacher and you are on the same level. 

“I felt uncomfortable coming in the door, but after sitting down and talking to ... my teacher, I didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore. I felt at ease.”

My wife has seen the progress of reading since I’ve been here.  It got better.  I read newspapers with my wife, and I try to read books.  These people make it so relaxed.  I got to come in to a relaxed area.  [Learning is coming] a lot easier.  Finding these classes… I’m not the loner.  There’s other people with the same problems.  It makes me feel a lot easier.  And we get along and joke.  But when it comes to working on a problem or writing something, there’s no joking about it.  It’s all serious.  After, we joke about it.  Joking…reading…joking.

“When you come through that front door, the teacher and you are on the same level. ”

That’s a homemade tattoo.  That’s my jail reminder.  I spent almost four years in jail up in Northampton House of Correction.  When you go to jail, the first thing you hear is: Slam.  Click.  That’s the prison door shutting behind you.  You hear that 7 days a week, 365 days a year.  Anytime I feel that I can get upset at someone and will end up getting into a fight, I hear that.  And it calms you right now.  I’ve been out of trouble since ’86.  It’s 2005.  That’s a long time. 

“I got a grandson, two and a half months old, yesterday. He’s going to come up and say, “Grandpa, read me this story.””

I don’t miss the rowdiness.  I’m married.  I’m old.  Rowdiness is gone.  I fish a lot.  And my number one partner in my fishing is my wife.  Took me two years to teach her how to cast a line.  And she’s actually a little bit better than I am.  When I go fishing I don’t think about schooling, I don’t think about my family, I think about my wife and me having a good time.  That’s our escape.  We seen deer, foxes, bears, moose, everything up the Quabbin.  It’s God’s country.

I got a grandson, two and a half months old, yesterday.  He’s going to come up and say, “Grandpa, read me this story.”  I want to read the story to him.  It’s going to be great to sit in a rocker and just read him the story and rock. 

“It’s going to be great to sit in a rocker and just read him the story and rock.”

Tammy

Tammy, 34 at the time of this interview, studied for her GED at The Literacy Project in Ware in the late 1990s.  Despite significant personal losses, she graduated with her GED and entered Greenfield Community College in 2002.  Here, she reflects on returning to school as an adult, after caring for family members for many years, and the difficulty of re-entering the workforce.

I quit school at 16 because of medical reasons. At 17 I had my daughter. At 18 I was married. 

I always wanted to complete my education and I did try.  But I had a huge issue with being away from my daughter, at the time.  She was only 6 months old.  So I kind of put my education on hold. And did the mom thing and the wife thing and always wanted to complete my education.

“I did the mom thing and the wife thing and always wanted to complete my education.”

You know, my husband always knew how important it was for me to finish my education. And I was going to start, 2 years prior to ‘97.  But, for some reason in January I kept getting this feeling like I shouldn’t start.  And there was a reason.  And in February my husband was diagnosed with cancer.  So I was glad that I didn’t start it, at the time.  And after a year and a half of his battle with cancer, he did pass away.

“I decided that for my husband and for me I was gonna start working on finishing my education.”

And I decided that for my husband and for me I was gonna start working on finishing my education. And in September of ‘97 I started here [the Ware Adult Education Center].

And, basically, it’s been a struggle.

When I first came, I had Sharon Feeney [Site Director] and Sue Turner [Instructor] for teachers.  And it wasn’t easy for me. I always put myself down. Didn’t have any confidence in being smart or anything like that. And Sharon and Sue constantly encouraged me. You know?

And I thought it was wonderful because I went from writing a paragraph—no punctuation, basically just a long, real long sentence – and I’m in college now and write eleven-page essays.  And if it wasn’t for Sharon and Sue constantly encouraging the writing, and, “You can do it. You have to have confidence!”  I don’t know….  Each one of them took hours and just sat there with me and helped me with the punctuation. ‘Cause to me, I could never figure out when it ended.  I talk so much and I just go on and on and on.  I just thought everything else should, too. 

But now, like I said, things have totally changed. And if it wasn’t for Sharon and Sue, I don’t think I would have made it. Because, not only were they there for me, as a teacher, but they were also there for me when personal issues arose.

“When I first stepped into here my first theory was, I wasn’t leaving. didn’t care if I was here 6 or 8 years. I was not leaving until I had my GED.”

When I first stepped into here my first theory was, I wasn’t leaving. I didn’t care if I was here 6 or 8 years. I was not leaving until I had my GED. And it was that simple. I was not gonna quit again at my education.

And. Oh gosh. My Mom ended up becoming sick, with cancer as well.  It was probably about a year, year and a half after I had started here.  When my Mom first started her chemo treatments I was trying to come. But it got to a point where I was constantly worrying about my Mom while I was here. And I just couldn’t focus.  And at that point I did end up taking time off. Which—it, really, really bothered my Mom.  ‘Cause she didn’t want me stopping school—

And she also lost her battle with cancer in June of 2000. 

When I quit I promised my Mom that I would eventually go back and continue on getting my GED.  And I did that.  When I came back, in January of 2001, I started taking the practice tests. And I actually scheduled my appointment to take my GED test. And I took it in May. And we found in June of 2001 that I did pass.

And I started [Greenfield Community College] in January of 2002.  And I’ve been there since.

I started out as an accounting major, but I decided that I didn’t really care for it all that much.  I could handle the math part of it. But the business part of it was really boring and hard to get through. So I switched my major into Early Childhood Education.  And, I like it.  Actually, I’ve made the Dean’s List with my courses in it.

In June of this year I will be graduating with my certificate degree. And I’m also in the process of working on another certificate degree for Microsoft applications.  I’ll be graduating with that certificate in 2007.  And in 2008 I’ll be graduating with my Associate’s Degree.

“When I was younger looking for a job, people were always, “Well, why don’t you finish your education?” Well. now that I’m doing that, I get, “Well how come you haven’t worked in 13 years?””

I’ve been looking for work for a year solid. And no one will touch me. Big Y and McDonald’s won’t touch me because those jobs mostly go to teenagers.  And everyone else wants experience.  I’m kind of on the double edged sword.  When I was younger looking for a job, people were always, “Well why don’t you finish your education?”  Well, now that I’m doing that I get, “Well how come you haven’t worked in 13 years?”  Well I was raising a family, I was taking care of sick family members, and I was going to school!  It’s not like everyone can do everything!

Other than that, it’s great. I never thought I’d be making the Dean’s List.  I never thought I’d be graduating from college.  When I started here it was such a distant dream.  I still can’t believe I’m there.  Half the time I can’t believe it.

As Sharon would say, I multi-task really well.  I’ve learned to do that.  My daughter’s in basketball.  And she does softball.  And she does dance.  So I’ve learned to take homework to basketball games or where ever I need to be.  I sit there doing my homework during her games.  I tried to get my daughter to back off to 6 dances from 7.  I got the answer the other day, “I’m not a quitter!”  I can’t argue with it.  I’ve been telling her not to be! 

“I push education a lot with my daughter. I tell her, “If you have your education, no one can ever take that away from you.””

I’m always telling her, ‘You can’t quit school. It just is not something you can do in this future today.  You have to have your education. It’s the most crucial thing in the world.’  I push education a lot with my daughter.  I tell her, ‘If you have your education, no one can ever take that away from you.’  She will be graduating [from high school ] in 2007.  She wants to go to GCC and do dance.  Since 9th grade, she’s actually talked about college.  It helps that she’s watching me do it, she’s seen the struggles I’ve worked through. 

“I needed to prove to myself that I was smart. ”

I think my hugest issue I needed to do for my education was, I needed to prove to myself that I was smart.  I know that now.  Making the Dean’s List.  Not everyone makes the Dean’s List.

But, it’s hard for me, not having my husband and my Mom here, to enjoy it with me.  So it’s kind of bittersweet, you know.

Ron

Ron, 48 at the time of this interview, got his GED in 1989 after attending classes at The Literacy Project’s Charboneau Learning Center in Greenfield.  He continued on to graduate from UMass-Amherst with a Bachelor’s degree in counseling. 

What brought me to The Literacy Project was really my alcohol and drug abuse.  I was at the Beacon House for men.  I think I was about 32, 33 years old.  Well out of high school.  I dropped out of high school. 

Kind of stepping back a little bit, my parents were separated when I was two or three years old, late fifties.  My father got custody of me.  He joined the military, army.  Green beret during Vietnam.  And so every time he went to Vietnam, I moved up from North Carolina to Westfield, where his sister lived, my aunt.  And she took me in as part of her own.  However, when my father’s tour was over, he’d pick me up and I’d go back down south.

And my educational experience suffered because of that, I believe now.  I don’t blame anybody.  That was just the way it was.  I got sent back from the third to the second grade, and then I failed the fourth, in a period of three years, I guess it was. 

“I got sent back from the third to the second grade, and then I failed the fourth, in a period of three years.”

So, eventually the Vietnam War was winding down and I went to school down south.  Growing up down south it was ‘yes ma’am,’ ‘no ma’am.’  So, my father was trying to instill in me responsibility.  You be on time.  You respect your elders.  But he didn’t know how to go about instilling that in me.  This guy was very regimentated.  Very army.  No questions.  No ifs, ands or buts.   

That was in the late 60s, when the riots were going on.  Of course, I wasn’t really cognitive of really what was going on, with the Vietnam War, the protests, the flower power, and all that stuff.  But, I started experimenting with drugs, alcohol, which was just the way it was.  I mean, you go to a local 7-11 store and buy a fifth of Boone’s Farm for 99 cents.  And a pack of smokes was 26 cents in North Carolina, so you saved your lunch money for a day.  I mean, you know.  And we had pot and a little Warren Sunshine came along, and one thing led to another. 

“So I kind of rebelled. ... My story is one of the road.”

So I kind of rebelled.  Being fourteen, and then you throw in the booze and drugs, and then you throw in the military, I said, “The hell with this, I am out of here!”  Because, I’m used to – my story is one of the road.  One of the highway, the road, travel.  When my father was going to ‘Nam each time.  No roots.  You understand.  No family.  No foundation, if you will. 

“No roots...No family.  No foundation, if you will. ”

So, a neighbor helped me run away, buy a plane ticket, and I moved up to Turners Falls [where my mother lived].  And things really escalated downhill, real quick.  Because I didn’t have that discipline anymore.  My mother – you know – there seems to be more alcoholism on my mother’s side of the family. 

By this time I was in ninth grade.  I was only going to school to play football, because I played Pop Warner down south and I loved it.  I really loved it.  And to this day, I think it’s my only regret about dropping out of high school.  I could sign myself out of school anytime I wanted.  I was of age.  I would just come into the office and say, “I’m leaving.  See you later.”  And that didn’t last too long and I dropped out again. 

“I was living anywhere anybody wanted to go... anywhere I could. Until I wore out my welcome.”

I drank and drugged for eighteen years.  Beginning at 14 until I was 32.  [My] twenties were a blur to me.  A blur.  Booze and drugs.  Somebody said let’s go to Salt Lake City – so, let’s go!  Hitchhiking across the United States, all that stuff.  I was living anywhere anybody wanted to go.  …Anywhere I could.  Until I wore out my welcome.  I lived in Salt Lake City, I lived in Alabama, I lived in Texas, Massachusetts, you know.  Like the wind.  I worked from paycheck to paycheck, just enough to buy alcohol or whatever. 

I met this girl in high school.  Fell in love, it was love at first sight.  But we didn’t really get together that much.  We each had our little world.  Last time I saw her was in a bar and she kissed me good-bye.  She got married.  And I swore then that I would get her back in my life.  So, time went on.  She got divorced.  And, lo and behold, it happened.  We got married.  She had a child, a daughter, our oldest daughter.  We went through the courts and I adopted her.  Judge says, “You’re her father.”  So now I got this family.  My boozing and drugging got worse.  We were married four or five years.  Got divorced.  She finally said, ‘get the hell out.’  Drunks burn people out big time.  It was the best thing that ever happened to me that she threw me out.  I finally had to look at myself and start taking care of business.  So I thanked her for that.  I’m grateful for that. 

“In the back of my mind this whole time I’m regretting the fact that I don’t have a high school education, I don’t have a GED.  ”

I was doing bridge work at the time.  I was learning a jack-hammer.  In the back of my mind this whole time I’m regretting the fact that I don’t have a high school education, I don’t have a GED.  All the applications I write on that I have a high school diploma.  That kind of wore at me.  I call it, kind of … drinking my life away, drinking my dreams away.  I’ll get my GED tomorrow, but give me another round right now.  Of course, it never happens.

“I call it, kind of... drinking my life away, drinking my dreams away. I’ll get my GED tomorrow, but give me another round right now.”

So, my last time at the Beacon House was in eighty-eight.  And that’s when I hooked up with The Literacy Project.  Because of my past drinking and drugging thing, I was going to be a substance abuse counselor!  That’s what I was going to be, by God.  And I did become one.  But that was down the road.  I got my GED, signed up for GCC.  The GCC experience was wonderful.  I transferred to UMass.  I went to school full-time for five and a half years.  Working overnights, relief, at different places.  Silver Street Inn to whatever.  Brattleboro Retreat for a little while.  Whatnot.  I graduated from UMass, finally.  B.A.  I was a substance abuse counselor for Providence Hospital – Certified Alcohol and Drug Abuse Counselor. 

Two things I learned while going to the Beacon Clinic.  I knew I was a drunk.  I accepted that.  [The other] was the word parenting vs. babysitting.  You don’t baby sit your own children.  You parent them.  Parenting – you’re involved, you’re making decisions, it’s more…whole, I suppose.  So I would get them off to school, [then] I would go to school.  And during the summer, I would parent them everyday.  Through the whole summer, five days a week.  It was kind of tough when, then my ex-wife would come home from work, or she would leave for work.  Tough facing her every day.  I was doing this within my first year of recovery.  

“As a parent, [one of my goals] is to be able to help them get an education, the easy way, because I did it the hard way. ”

As a parent, [one of my goals] is to be able to help them get an education, the easy way, because I did it the hard way.  I understand the value of an education, getting that piece of paper.  It’s not so much what you learn, because you can’t remember everything.  College, to me, taught me how to learn.  Where to look for things.  I can’t remember the quadratic equation to save my life.  But I know where to go if I had to look it up.  That’s to me what education is all about.