Stupid, fool, ignorant, dumb. These were a few of the insults I received in school after moving from Gulfport, Mississippi to Oakland, California. I was illiterate; I couldn’t read, write, or function in the classroom setting. I found myself struggling in a world that didn’t welcome those who couldn’t produce, comprehend, or embrace English.

As an angry black boy that experienced a segregated elementary school in Mississippi, I had preconceived notions as to what learning was or should be. What I didn’t know until many years later is that I was, in essence, a second language learner due to illiteracy. I felt like an outcast, a foreigner in my own land. As a child, I stayed in the shadows so that I wouldn’t be laughed at or teased.