I firmly believe that public schools can bring hope to desperate children, because I am the best proof. I grew up in Brooklyn, new york. My parents are teachers in public schools in new york. My father worked in a public school for 40 years, and he enjoyed a high reputation among African-Americans in the early 1960s.
I remember my father once told me that once he accidentally broke his arm and went to school in plaster. The headmaster told him, "You can't attend class with a plaster on your hand. My father, who has never had a holiday in his teaching career, walked through the office, threw the plaster into the trash can, put his hand in his pocket and went back to class to help the students, because he firmly believed that education should not be slack.
But when I was eight or nine years old, my mother and father died one after another. Since then, I have to take care of my life and imitate my father's signature to pay overdue bills.
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