My family and I never talked about school as the ticket to a future. I was in the classrooms, but I wasn't there to learn to write, read or even speak. When it was my turn to read, I wanted to hide. I was 13 years old, but I already hated being who I was.
I had an English teacher, Mr. Creech, who knew I couldn't read. In one of my first lessons the teacher said that anyone who had a reading age below six had to stand up. I felt so embarrassed. But at the same time, it made me realize that I needed to change the situation. I was determined that it wouldn't happen again. Later that day, Mr. Creech encouraged me and promised he would try his best to help me learn to read. From then on, I never gave up practicing reading.
Now I was 41 years old. One day, I planned to fly back to Texas to visit my friends and family. On my way from the airport, I saw Mr. Creech buying himself a drink. I rushed over and reached into my pocket to pay for him. "Do I know you? "he asked. "Yes, sir, you do know me, "I answered excitedly. "My name is Anthony Hamilton. You taught me English. "The look on his face told me that he remembered the boy he'd once encouraged.
"I'm so glad I had a chance to see you, "I said. "And Mr. Creech, I have great news to share, "I told him I had learned to read. But that wasn't all. I had become a published author and an active speaker. "The next time you get another Anthony Hamilton in your classroom, please encourage him to read as well, "I added.
The experts say what once worried me has a name: dyslexia. But I can tell you it was a lack of desire for education.
