There was light in the room. It was coming from a lamp on a desk. Next to the desk was a bed. Across from the bed was a bookshelf. The bookshelf had several books missing. A few were scattered in front of the bookshelf, some were in a pile on the desk, but one was in the hands of a boy who was sitting in a chair in front of the desk. The book was The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien. It was two o’ clock in the morning, the boy was eight years old, and he had just fallen asleep.
That boy was me. Ever since an even younger age, I have had a love of knowledge. Every chance I got, I did what I could to learn more. My hunger for knowledge was trumped only by my hunger for pizza. When I started a book, I could not put it down. The scenario described earlier was a very common one. I had my first all-nighter before most of my peers because I would just be so absorbed in a book that I would forget to go to sleep. This love of knowledge has not died as I have aged. I still wish to know as much as I can. Knowledge has been the one constant in my life.
My Dad has had a very unique career track. Early in my life, he was a businessman. At one point he was earning a six figure salary. One day all that changed. On 9/11, his company suffered a tremendous loss. As a result, they had to make cuts. My father was laid off. He then responded to his calling to become a pastor. As a result we had to move from Texas to Ohio so he could go to seminary. That is what you call a culture shock. My family went from being quite wealthy to being right around the poverty line. Through all that I held on to the yearning for knowledge.
I’ve moved several times in my life. I have lived in seven different houses and been to thirteen different schools. In fact, for the past ten years, I have moved an average of once every two years. I never let that stop me. Even though I have had a very inconsistent education, my learning has been constant. Even when my teachers were incompetent, I would ensure that I...