For as long as I can remember I have had a love for reading and writing. My passion for the language arts was nurtured by my mother, which proved to be fortunate for me as some of my school experiences were quite negative. Never the less these trials did help me to recognize and develop my skills as a writer. Writing became an outlet for me to express my feelings in the midst of an unusual and occasionally painful childhood school career.
I started reading when I was four years old, and writing soon followed. Kindergarten, first, and second grade were fairly enjoyable. Granted I was one of the more hyperactive ones of the class and occasionally got called out for not paying attention, but that did not suggest anything was out of the normal. Everything changed in the third grade when I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or ADHD as it is more commonly known. That same year my family moved to South America to become missionaries. While I did not fully understand what was going on at the time, I did understand that I was being treated very differently by my teachers and administrators than the other students were and not due to cultural differences.…show more content… The other kids of course laughed at me, and that is how the majority of my third grade year went. In short I was bullied and abused by my teacher and my classmates followed suit. Due to this I slipped into a state of depression that lasted for several years, as the research of Glynn Sharpe suggests is normal for victims of abuse at the hands of their teachers “Long-term affects … include increased anxiety, loneliness and self-esteem issues, …” (Sharpe,
