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When I finally went to watch it, I went with a couple of my teammates and just bought a ticket to the show like a normal person. I didn't tell anyone at the theater who I was or that the movie was about me. I just wanted to see it the way anyone else would.

My feelings afterward were mixed. First of all,I couldn't understand why so many people around me were sniffing and blowing their noses at the end. I wanted to stand up and say, "You realize that was a happy ending, right? I mean, I have a great life, a great family, and I am really thankful for all of the blessings I've been given. Things turned out really good for me--please don't cry."

But the other side of me had to deal with some wounded pride. I understand that there are certain things you have to do to make a story work as a movie; you may have to move some things around or play certain things up or down in order to help the audience buy into your characters and plot. I liked the movie as a movie, but in terms of it representing me, that's where I had a hard time loving it. I felt like it portrayed me as dumb instead of as a kid who had never had consistent academic instruction and ended up thriving once he got it. Quinton Aaron did a great job acting the part, but I could not figure out why the director chose to show me as someone who had to be taught the game of football. Whether it was S.J. moving around ketchup bottles or Leigh Anne explaining to me what blocking is about, I watched those scenes thinking, "No, that's not me at all! I've been studying--really studying--the game since I was a little kid!" That was my main hang-up with the film. I liked the book pretty well, but I knew more people were going to watch the movie than read the book and I really didn't want them to think I was someone who was so clueless about something I had always taken pride in being pretty smart about.

On the other hand, I'm glad the movie was a big enough hit that it could reach some kids who are in the same position I used to be in when I was in foster care. If my story in The Blind Side can help inspire them to find a way out of the ghetto, then it's all worth it to me.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A Different Kind of Fan Mail

Every week, I get big boxes of fan mail that have been sent to the Ravens, to my parents' house, and to Ole Miss. Many are autograph requests or people wanting me to make an appearance at one event or another. I really appreciate the enthusiasm my fans show, but the volume is always way more than I can possibly handle, so I end up having to turn down a whole lot of requests.

There are some letters, though, that stand out to me. A handful of letters from just a typical week paints a pretty good picture of the kinds of people who have written to me because they've been touched by my story--by our story, really. What these letters tell me is that kids like me aren't the exception. There are a lot of us out there whose family life is unfortunately similar to mine, and whose struggles sound familiar. These letters come to me from Maryland, Kentucky, Mississippi, Oregon, California, Ohio--all over our country in every state and every community there are kids who are hurting. Some of these kids have had people step up to show them love; others are still waiting for someone to do that. All of them are desperate for a role model.

The stories I share below are all taken from just a couple of days' worth of fan mail. Some of the letters made me cheer, some made me smile, some made me want to cry. Some tell long stories and others are just a few lines on notebook paper. But all of them are an important look into a world many of us might never see otherwise.

I want to include them here not as a way to pat myself on the back for the positive words they give me, but because I want people to understand how big the need is, and how clearly kids like I was are hurting for someone to look up to and teach them how to make the right choices and reach their full potential in life.

"E" bravely shares her own experiences and struggles as