I Beat the Odds_ From Homelessness, to the Blind Side, and Beyond - Michael Oher [50]
They didn't crowd me with emotion, but they also made sure I knew I was always welcome. They didn't treat me like I was fragile, or with curiosity like I was a strange creature they had to figure out before we could get close. They treated me just like they treated everyone else, and I think that helped me feel so at home there so quickly.
I also got the sense that they seemed to understand what I was trying to do, but that I just didn't have the tools--or even know what the tools were--that I needed to get there. I wasn't dumb and I wasn't lazy. I was lost and hurt and I wanted to work hard but hardly knew where to start because ambition just wasn't anything I'd ever really seen modeled in my life.
For me just to see how those families lived--all the Briarcrest families that took me in--what their neighborhoods were like, what the rules and expectations were in their homes, had a huge impact because I was able to understand what I'd suspected, that a life like mine in childhood wasn't normal and it wasn't okay. And I started to get a much clearer picture of what I was aiming for.
Because my dream wasn't about making the big bucks, it was about making a better life than what my brothers and sisters and foster siblings and I had all known. Those different families I stayed with all showed me that it was possible to feel safe from violence at night and that there actually are adults who work hard during the day and take care of their kids and encourage them to succeed in school and whatever their dreams are. And the Tuohys were the ones who were able to pour themselves into my life to help me make the most of the doors that I was trying to open.
That partnership was important for all the pieces to fall into place. I was trying to open doors and they were trying to show me the way through. It never would have worked if it had been one-sided: just me pushing but not knowing what to do with the opportunity; or them trying to guide me but me not being willing to do any of the work. There had to be a give and take.
The summer before I began my senior year of high school, the Tuohys invited me to live with them full-time. My mother didn't really care one way or the other that I was moving out, but I was thrilled. I had started staying there most of the time, but occasionally I still would stay at other homes, too. Having a place where I could say, "I'm going home" was exciting for me. They cleared out the loft room above S.J.'s bedroom. It had been his playroom, but I didn't mind if the pop-a-shot basketball game stayed, since he and I could (and have) played it for hours at a time. The room had high ceilings, which was nice for me to not feel like I might bump my head if I stood on my toes.
Leigh Anne drove me around to all the different homes where I'd stayed and I collected the clothes or shoes I had left there to always have something to wear for school. And when I carried everything upstairs to put it in the closet, I felt like I finally had a place in a normal home. Every night, Leigh Anne would tell the kids good night by saying, "I love you." She said it to me, too, and I started to believe she meant it.
Everything was so different from how it had been when I'd been placed with foster families. The Tuohys treated me like a member of the family--a real family--and not just as another mouth to feed or the reason for a monthly support check. I was building real relationships with the people around me; I wasn't just a special project to them. I was a kid who wanted to feel loved and supported and to know that my dreams and my future were just as important as anyone