As a young child growing up in Hopkinsville, Kentucky the notion of attending an Ivy League school was preposterous. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would attend a college, let alone one of Columbia University’s caliber.
As the product of a single-parent household, my mother struggled with drug addiction. My father was my caregiver. A career soldier, his service made me the perpetual “new guy” at school every two to three years to include three different high schools.
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