I was raised in the disease of poverty.
Imagine, beginning at the bottom of a big, dark hole.
Desolate, except for the light at the top, and the champions standing too high
to reach. They claim that with the slightest bit of effort anyone can climb up.
Ropes are thrown down and they cheer encouraging words, frustrated that no one
is willing to meet them halfway, but another dynamic plays out below that only
the people living it really understand.
To climb not only abandons a way of life, but also a way of
thinking. It’s an uphill battle of tremendous weight that doesn’t end when you
reach the top.
Twenty years ago, I personally took this
journey, and everything I am today is molded through a shattered lens of two
perceptions. read more
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