My name is Sherry Brinson, born in St. Louis, MO on Dec. 10, 1997. I don’t remember much as a kid, but the things I do remember isn’t all unicorns and rainbows…more like darkness and rainstorms. My mom died in 2005 when I was only 8 years old. I don’t recall her being involved in my life as my older sister would care for us mostly. My dad was always busy working, so my sister was more like my mom. I didn’t see my mom often because she was a substance abuser. Her choice drug was cocaine. She stayed on the streets day and night while we often wondered where our next meal would come from. However, my older sister always made a way. Growing up, school was a little difficult for me. I didn’t get along with other students. I was a C average student and got into a lot of fights, giving my granny a hard time. Because I didn’t have my mom or dad around, I found myself in trouble often. I was hurt, and as a kid I didn’t know how to control the hurt and pain I was feeling.