Starting this semester, I did not realize how much Tara Westover’s Memoir, Educated, would change my perspective on school. Growing up school to me was never a priority, it was just something everyone had to do. Then I decided to continue my education in search of a path that I want to take. My family has been less lucky than I have been and didn’t have the easy choice that I had. After reading the memoir, it has opened my eyes to the fact that people don’t always get the proper education that kids like myself take for granted.

              In the memoir, Educated, Tara Westover’s dad pulls her and her siblings from public school and keeps them home because of his fear of the government. Just reading how much an education would mean to her and her siblings made me stop and think what if I was in one of their shoes? How much would just a public-school education to me? I’ve never realized how unappreciative American students truly are. It also made me think about kids in other countries and the things they must go through just to have things like clean water or food. The things that we in America can get and we don’t think twice about.

              The Memoir also opened my eyes to the realization that everyone has a different story. Obviously, this was already an ideal that I had but reading the book, Tara goes through so many different ups and downs during her childhood and it made me think what was his or her story. Everyone has a different home life and it’s actually crazy that sometimes in our own very classroom their could be a kid with a smile on their face but deep down they are hurting, maybe they lost a close family member or maybe they have a terrible home life and this hour they have in this class is the best time they have all week.

              After reading this Memoir, I decided to give back to my community and help coach a recreation basketball team for nine and ten-year old’s. This is a very influential time period in a boy’s life. I’ve also been coaching with the mindset that these two hours these boys get a week could be the best two hours they have throughout the week. They get to cut up and have some fun and learn the game of basketball. I take pride in the fact that I am helping to coach because I can still remember my rec league coaches and I still remember the important things that they went on to teach me.

For years of my life I had been convinced of the idea that reading was for the kids who couldn’t play sports or the kids who had no friends. It’s a sad idea to believe in, it truly is. Its also very ignorant, but for some reason athletes still try and fill that persona and would rather be a dumb jock then to be a smart kid. I’ve grown up trying to stay away from books, so whenever a book was assigned, I wouldn’t read it, I’d get home look at the summaries and then never even open the book, because somehow reading makes you less of an athlete or makes you less cool to be around. Trust me, I know how dumb this all sounds but this is how I believed most of high school. I believed that if my teammates saw me in the hall reading, they’d think less of me, that I would be weaker. So, like many athletes instead of trying in school, I just coasted, let the easy things come to me, wouldn’t attempt the hard things, letting the phrase “oh, I’m a football player” get me out of every sticky situation. I was too cool to be reading.

I was able to move past this idea the day my eleventh-grade teacher Mrs. Smith assigned Monster by Walter Dean Myers. She had assigned it so we would all be done in roughly a month. She passed out the worn copies of the novel to everyone. Each book with its own unique creases, its own unique number. She would call us out one by one and record the number written on the bottom of the book. “E-36” I called out when she read my name off the attendance sheet. It was her way of keeping us responsible for our own copy of the book. I was never worried about ruining a book, because mine never leaves my backpack.

After a couple minutes or so I decided I would read the back, I’m not sure why I got the urge to do so but I did. The book is about a kid -the same age that I was at the time reading it- being on trial for murder. The book is written in the form of a screenplay. It jumps back and forth between his memories, his trial in the court room, and him being alone in his cell at night trapped in his own thoughts. The book really intrigued me, but I had friends in this class I couldn’t read it right there, so I waited. I went through the day almost excited to get home, be in my own room, isolated from the rest of the world. When I finally got home, I turned down invites to go out with my friends, as I would usually do on a Friday afternoon. I had decided I would try this book out, because for the first time in my life I felt excited to read. Excited like when you go see that movie in theatres, the one you’ve been watching trailers about and you’ve been waiting to see. I opened the book up-with no intention of spending hours in that exact spot-and just started reading. I became emotionally attached to the characters, and I became emotional about the story itself.

By Sunday night I had finished the entire novel and written my two-page summary, even though it wasn’t due for a couple of weeks I just didn’t want to forget all the emotions I had. That Monday after the school day, I walked down to her classroom where I found her at her desk, typing away. I knocked on the open door, and stepped in. I told her about how I really enjoyed the book and how this was the first time I had ever finished a novel. I’m not sure what I was looking to gain from telling her, maybe I just wanted someone to be proud of me for something other then sports. When I was growing up sports were the reason I connected to people, it’s the reason why people would tell me that I did a good job. I had heard it so much outside of school that I never needed to hear it in school, and because of that I never wanted to put effort into school, all I had to do was keep my grades good enough to play on Friday nights.

She did not give me the response that I was seeking. She looked at me as if she was confused why I was telling her this, but after a couple minutes of me explaining why this was a big deal for me, she had opened-up. We talked right there in the same positions for what seemed to be hours but was probably closer to like eight or nine minutes. At the end of the conversation she handed me her copy of the book. She told me that she would like me to keep it, that she had read it plenty of times and that I would enjoy it more then she would. As time went on, reading became more of a hobby then a burden. I would go to bookstore and pick out a book about once a month. She may not know it, but this moment of my life will change it forever.

Since the fourth grade, football has been the love of my life. This year will be the first time in nine years not being a part of something bigger than me. During my four years at East Burke High School, I was a part of three varsity teams. However, none of these teams amounted to many accomplishments. Our team seemed like it was plagued with injuries, but at the end of the day we still lost a lot more then we won. Even with all of the loses, the players and coaches on my teams will be my brothers forever and that bond is irreplaceable.

During my junior year, I wound up tearing my meniscus in three different spots. The meniscus is the cartilage that keeps the two bones in your knee from touching. I played the season out and I had surgery on it the summer before my senior year. During the surgery the doctors said that because of the extent of damage they would have to remove it. Going into me senior season I was in physical therapy and had to wear a big knee brace. At first, these seemed like obstacles that would be difficult to overcome but I recovered very well and was able to play while only missing one game.

Football will always be the building block I needed to become the man I am today. Football teaches young adults that being apart of a brotherhood is so important. You have to be willing to give everything you’ve got for your brothers. Football also teaches discipline, self control, and that if you want something you have to be willing to work for it. Without football, I truly don’t know where I would be. While I will miss it and wish to play just one more game, I’ll forever be thankful for the experience. I will use the tools I’ve learned to become a good man and a great father.