If you had ever asked me when I was small where I saw myself or wanted to be as an adult, I probably would have told you the typical childhood dreams… I wanted to be a doctor or a veterinarian. I loved science and I was a whiz when it came to math. My parents still remember the days of 6th grade and me competing in math competitions at the local University against college students. Never in my wildest dreams did I dream or even realize a world as dark as the one I had come to know existed, let alone here in the shadows of America.
Thinking back to those days and how the anticipation of academic challenges brought self- esteem, empowerment, and excitement, I asked courageously if I could look into attending college. By the time I made it to the safe house, I was 29. I had dropped out of school at 17 to have my first daughter and obtained my GED. I wasn’t sure I’d even remember anything academically, let alone recall enough to get into college. But I had to start somewhere. After several weeks of talking, discussing, safety planning, applying for my GED transcripts and identification, I was given permission to file for financial aid and register for classes. I was so nervous when I found out that I had to take placement tests before I could even start, but much to my surprise, I passed all my entry placement tests for the local community college just fine.