1Prologue - In the Beginning
My hands were damp and sticky, my fingers trembling and rattling the piece of paper within my death grip, and my pulse was racing so rapidly that I felt faint. Nervousness was plaguing me on the inside like an infectious disease, threatening to surface for all to see as my stomach twisted and turned. The distinct taste of bile rose up my throat and I swallowed hard to force it back down. With curly, blond hair and baby blue eyes, I was what one would consider a pretty boy, only I was lacking in social skills and confidence. At eleven years old, I had high ambitions, one of which involved the desire to become the President of the United States when I grew up.
The paper held tightly in my hands was marked in pen with my chicken scratch hand writing; a short essay about what I wanted to be when I grew up and why. The thought of getting in front of the entire class to read my essay was very terrifying to me. I was the outsider, the one that didn't fit in and instead, merely blended in with the background. With black, thick-rimmed glasses, I was dubbed as one of the nerds by the popular kids, but I never felt that I fit in that category. I felt as if I didn't fit in any category but my own.
I could feel the perspiration beading up across my forehead as I waited anxiously for our teacher, Mr. Harris, to call my name. Would my peers make fun of me? I didn't get to dwell on the thought for very long before Mr. Harris was calling me up to the front of the class.
My legs refused to move to get up from my desk and each second that followed, my heart seemed to pound harder within my chest. Every pair of eyes in the classroom turned to look at me, as if they could sense my fear and were poised for attack.
"Dean?" Mr. Harris spoke my name for a second time and as I looked up at him, I finally found the will to move.
My knees felt as if they were going to give out on me on the way up to his desk, but I managed to get there without tumbling to the ground and making a fool of myself in front of everyone.
Turning to face the class, I took in a deep breath in an attempt to muster up my courage.
"Whenever you're ready," Mr. Harris said and I gave him a nod.
Many eyes were staring holes into me, causing my nervousness to escalate. It became increasingly difficult not to squirm under the watchful eyes of my peers.
"Everyday, we are faced with people with cynical eyes," my grandmother's words echoed in my mind. "We may get judged for our views, our beliefs, or how we live but it is how we face these daily challenges that matter. They can make you or break you. Don't let anyone tell you can't be what you want to be or do what you want to do. You can do anything, you just have to have the heart, the strength, the determination, and the discipline to do so. Remember that."
It was because I recalled her words that helped me to overcome my fear and read my essay out loud to the class, even if my voice was a hitch-pitched squeak as I began:
"I want to become President of the United States when I grow up."
Immediately, I could hear the snickers of those cruel students in the back of the class that liked to pick on other kids, but I held my head high and continued, "I think that it would be cool to live in the White House. I would use the money I make to help end world hunger and poverty in our country."
Mr. Harris gave me an encouraging smile from where he sat on the edge of his desk, which only aided in boosting my confidence just a little. I could do this, I told myself, but that didn't stop my pulse from hammering so loudly in my ears that I could barely even hear myself speaking.
"I would cut taxes for our people and I would like to keep world peace, so that we don't have to go to war. I think that I could make the country better for the people by serving in the office as the President when I grow up."
It was then that I took a much needed breath and slowly exhaled as Mr. Harris gave me another smile and said, "Good job, Dean. You may take your seat."
Relief washed over me as I made my way back to my desk, glad that it was over, but I could still hear the occasional snicker that came from behind me. It was inevitable to be made fun of, I had learned that from my experience so far in school. It had been happening for generations and would only continue to. After all, that was the unfortunate way of life. However, even as a young kid just starting the exploration of his life, I vowed not to let anyone get in the way of my dreams.