When you start school having already watched one of your parents die, you’re starting with a mind already occupied with confusion, loss and sadness. It sits in the forefront of your brain and everything else seems like it’s miles away and words directed to you seem like whispers that just float by.

You see I couldn’t understand things like everyone else did. All the other kids were understanding this reading and writing thing. Not me. Words just didn’t make sense to me… Why could everyone make sense out of these letters?? Why was it so simple for them?? And so I sat every recess and lunch hour at my desk trying to make sense of everything and it just never clicked .

I would get sent to the slow class.
I would be sent to the “special” teachers outside of my regular class.

After my sister died school became that much harder to focus on.
And people became occupied so I slipped further into the cracks.

No matter what I tried it seemed my brain didn’t function the same as others.
But I knew I wasn’t stupid.
Yet in grade two I failed and was separated from the few friends I had grown up with.

This is when I stated drawing.

A picture says a thousand words even if they aren’t yours.