People ask my why I work so hard. Motivation is key.
My wife and I lived with rats in the walls and ceiling, with fleas in our bed biting us at night. We went a week with no food except bagels the local gas station threw away.
When you’ve been that poor, you WANT to work hard.
My wife and I lived with rats in the walls and ceiling, with fleas in our bed biting us at night. We went a week with no food except bagels the local gas station threw away.
When you’ve been that poor, you WANT to work hard.
I once went 10 days without food and 3 days without water because I couldn’t afford the treatment for an infected abscess in my throat. The pus would have poisoned me if it had burst and I’d swallowed it. I lost 20 pounds in that time and looked like a scarecrow.
We lived in low-income housing where people waited for us to go to work so they could try to kick in our door. Other men would see me leave and stand at the door telling my wife to open it for them. I had to go tell their families I’d kill them if they didn’t stop. They stopped.
We lived with gunshots outside so loud we couldn’t hear our own conversation. People defecating on our yard fence outside our windows. Blood on the sidewalks. Shootouts and 30+ person fights in the neighborhood street visible outside our kitchen window.
What would I do to keep my kids from growing up and facing all of that? I’d work until my bones broke.
No one who hasn’t been so poor can really imagine what it’s like. You don’t know the feeling of fleas crawling on you and biting you all night, or lying in bed for a week wondering if you’ll die without a treatment that others can easily afford.
My job now is to make sure my children can’t imagine those things, either. I’ll go to whatever ends are needed to make that happen. I’ll face any pain or horror to protect them and build them a better life.
This is parenthood. No excuses.
This is parenthood. No excuses.
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