I Didn’t Find a Home. I Had to Build It.

Sheila Matias Rodriguez

BEFORE YOU READ:
1. This story references childhood sexual abuse. If this issue affects you, you can find help. Call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-4673. Or visit RAINN at rainn.org.
2. Consider the word refuge. It means shelter from danger. What is the difference between a refuge and a home where you feel at peace?

Home and the Deepest Scars
I was seven years old when I learned that home is not always a safe place. The people who are supposed to protect you can also be the ones who leave the deepest scars. For years, I searched for a place where I could finally feel safe, until I realized that home was not something I would find—it was something I would have to build.

Home is not just where you live. Home is something you create when you finally feel safe enough to breathe. For a long time, I did not understand that.

Abuse
I was born in Puerto Rico, and my earliest memories of home were filled with warmth, family, and love. But when my parents separated, my world broke apart. I moved to Boston with my mother. We stayed with someone I was supposed to be able to trust, but instead, he abused me. I was only seven years old. I tried to tell people what happened, but no one believed me. That kind of silence changes a child forever. It steals your voice, your innocence, and your ability to feel safe. It changed the way I saw the world—and myself.

Refuge But No Peace
Later, I returned to Puerto Rico and lived with my aunt. Her house became a refuge. It was more than walls and a roof. It was history, family, and belonging. It was where my family had been raised, where my roots lived. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had come home.

But even though I was in a safer place, I was not at peace. The abuse had left me carrying fear, shame, anger, and questions that no child should ever have to carry. I found it hard to trust people, and I often felt like something inside me had been broken beyond repair. From the outside, I was finally home, but inside, I was still trapped in the memories of what had happened to me. I smiled when people expected me to smile, but deep inside, I was fighting battles no one could see.

Pain, My New Normal
Life was not simple. I became a mother at the age of 15. I was young, hurting, and unprepared. Instead of building stability, I made choices shaped by pain. I was trying to survive, but I found myself caught in violent, toxic relationships and life on the streets. I made mistakes, got arrested, and served time. Little by little, I stopped recognizing the woman I saw in the mirror.

Every bad decision felt like another piece of me slipping away. I wasn’t living. I was surviving. I kept searching for love in the wrong places because I had never truly learned what love was supposed to feel like. Pain had become so familiar that I didn’t even realize it was my normal.

Through it all, my children were watching. That realization is one of the greatest heartbreaks of my life. I was supposed to be their safe place, but I was still trying to find safety myself.

I did not know if I would survive the life I was living. I was betrayed by someone I trusted, and I came close to losing everything, even my life. Then my sister died.

Facing the Truth
Losing my sister shattered something inside of me. Grief has a way of stripping away every distraction and forcing you to face the truth. I realized that life could end without warning. I began asking myself painful questions: If my life ended today, what would my children remember about me? Would they remember my love or only my struggles? My sister’s death became the moment that forced me to stop running from my past and finally face it. It made me realize that tomorrow is not promised, and if I wanted a different future for my children, I had to start creating it now.

Breaking the Cycle
I realized I had a choice: continue repeating the cycles of pain that had followed my family for generations, or become the person who finally ended them.
I chose to break them.
I chose to leave behind the life that was destroying me.
I chose to become a better mother. A better woman.
I chose to give my children what I had spent my entire life searching for: safety, unconditional love, peace, and stability.
That is when I finally understood what home truly means.
Home is healing.
Home is protecting your children.
Home is ending cycles of pain and creating something better.
Home is peace in your spirit.

Building a Home
Today, I am still growing, still healing, and still becoming the woman I was always meant to be. I am not ashamed of where I came from because every chapter of my life has shaped the woman I am today. My past may explain me, but it does not define me.

Today, I am building the kind of home that little seven-year-old Sheila desperately needed—a home filled with love instead of fear, hope instead of pain, and peace instead of survival. Home is no longer a place I am searching for. It is something I create every single day. And I believe that may be the most powerful kind of home there is.

AFTER YOU READ:
1. Re-read the title. How did Sheila make a shift in her life from looking for a home to building one?
2. Read the article on pp. 6-7 by Kelly Robinson. Compare and contrast the two stories. What is similar and what is different?
3. What does it mean to break a cycle? Share a time you have broken a cycle in your family.

Sheila Matias-Rodriguez is an HSE student at an ABE program in Massachusetts. Sheila is a proud mother who never gives up, even when life gets difficult. Since she was young, she has dreamed of becoming an interior designer. She loves decorating and believes that beautiful spaces can make people feel happy and comfortable. She is determined to continue her education and turn her dream into reality.

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A Place that Wasn’t Always a Home

Kelly Robinson

BEFORE YOU READ:
1. What might make a place not feel like home?
2. Have you ever lived somewhere that did not feel like home? If so, describe it.
3. Look at the headings. What do you think will be the flow of the story?

Kelly Robinson

Past
I had a roof over my head, but I didn’t always have a home.

When I was young, my mom struggled with addiction, and our house never felt steady. I grew up around partying, fighting, and chaos. Every day when I went home after school, it felt like a question I didn’t want answered. What would I be walking into? I never knew. Some nights were loud. Some nights were tense. Some nights, I just wished things felt “normal.”

It felt like I had a different life than my peers. There were people in and out of my mom’s life, including boyfriends who weren’t always kind or safe. I saw things I never fully understood, but I felt the weight of them anyway. I could see the pain in my mother’s eyes, and I could feel her guilt. I felt like I needed to grow up fast and be there for her.

The hardest part is that I still called it home. It was my home, and it was all I knew. I didn’t realize home was supposed to feel safe, calm, and steady. Home isn’t just a place to sleep. It’s a feeling. It’s being able to walk through the door and breathe. It’s feeling safe, cared for, and at peace. I had a place to live but I didn’t always have that feeling of security.

Present
What makes me feel at home most is the presence of people I love. When my family is laughing together, sharing a meal, or just sitting in the same room, I feel content. On hard days, being around familiar faces brings a sense of peace that instantly makes everything feel okay again.

Another thing that creates my sense of home is routine. Simple things like waking up in my own bed, making dinner every night, or hearing everyday sounds can be comforting. These routines make life feel steady and predictable, which can be especially important during stressful times. I did not have routines and predictability growing up.

Home is also connected to memories. Certain places, songs, or even smells can bring back moments that make me feel safe and happy. Music from the 1980s reminds me of good times with my mom. I have the same car freshener in my car that she always had because it brings me a sense of peace and nostalgia. Even though my home wasn’t stable when I was growing up, I did have moments of joy with my mom. This is tremendously important to me because my mother passed away in 2017.

Breaking the Cycle
I feel proud that I can remember these fragile moments with my mom. They have helped me to honor my mother and forgive her. Now, being an adult and a mother of two, I am determined to break the cycle of my childhood. I have
transitioned from having an unstable childhood to creating a stable one for my children.

AFTER YOU READ:
1. Discuss the story. After sharing your thoughts and hearing from others, say and write down a one-sentence summary.
2. List some of the specific ways home did not feel like home when Kelly was growing up. List some of the specific ways she has created a home for herself as an adult.
3. Kelly has some bad memories of her childhood, but she also calls to mind some good memories. Being able to do this contributes to her resilience. Read more about resilience in the box on the right.
4. Notice how Kelly constructs paragraphs. Underline the topic sentences. Does she share details that support her topic sentences? Which paragraphs have strong details? Which could benefit from more details?
5. Write about a time you were resilient. Use a topic sentence in each paragraph and include at least three supporting details.

Kelly Robinson is a student at Mt. Desert Island Adult Education in Ellsworth, Maine. She is 28 years old and has two children.

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Building My Home Through Food

Janelle Wong

BEFORE YOU READ:
1. What kind of foods do you know how to make?
2. What kind of foods do you associate with home?

Many Flavors in my Kitchen
When I think about my ideal home, I do not first think about a big house or expensive furniture. I think about the kitchen. For me, home is not made in one place only. It is made by all the places I have visited and all the flavors I have loved.

I enjoy going to different places and learning about new cultures. I like new experiences, new customs, and new foods. Wherever I go, I try to learn something from that place and keep it with me. Food is the best example. I can make Chinese xiaolongbao, Korean soup, Japanese sushi, American hamburgers, Italian pizza and pasta, Thai curry, Portuguese grilled octopus, and Spanish paella. Every dish teaches me something different. Some dishes remind me of patience, some remind me of family, and some remind me of sharing.

A Family Menu that Tells a Story
When I learn how to cook food from a new place, I feel that I bring part of that place into my life. I do not want my home to be limited to only one style or one culture. I want it to be warm, open, and full of life. I want my family menu to tell the story of where I have been and what I have learned. In my ideal home, I can cook many kinds of food, invite good friends from different backgrounds, and share meals together at one table.

To me, this is what home means. Home is not just the place where I live. It is the place where all the things I love can stay together. I believe I can build a home anywhere, because I know how to keep beauty, memory, and flavor with me.

AFTER YOU READ:
1. What is a key ingredient of home for Janelle?
2. What is a recipe that reminds you of home? Write up the recipe. List the ingredients and the steps you take to make it. Present your recipe to the class on paper or digitally.
3. Collect the recipes on paper or digitally and share them with other people in your program.
4. For more stories by students about food, check out Issue 39 of The Change Agent.

Janelle Wong is an ESOL student at the Borough of Manhattan Community College in New York City. She enjoys traveling, cooking, running, and hiking. Her writing reflects her interest in food, culture, and connecting with people from around the world.

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Celebrating My Ideal Home: Community

Linda Tolliver Detiege

BEFORE YOU READ:
1. Based on the title, what do you think this article will be about?
2. Look for the words and phrases in bold italics. If you’re not sure what they mean, use context clues to figure it out.

Linda Tolliver Detiege

A Place Full of Love
In my ideal home, my front door feels like a beacon of hope. My home is a community house where love pours in through the walls. Everyone knows that when they cross the threshold, they will be in a safe place full of love.

A Place for Giving and Receiving
Mine is a home of individuals that radically receive and give love. We emphasize education and being mindful. We tell stories to reclaim what was taught to us by our grandparents and parents.

In my vision, family and friends share food around the dining table. My father is teaching my son how to plow the dirt and how to make the garden grow. My husband is telling stories about fishing and hunting.

This Is my Vision
In my vision, I am a steward of people’s stories. They come through my front door, and they bring their stories. We become part of each other’s inner world. We educate ourselves and learn about values. We learn what our purpose is. This is what my ideal home would be.

AFTER YOU READ:
1. Review the words and phrases in bold italics. What do they mean?
2. What is most important to Linda about her home? Be specific.
3. What is the connection between your home and
community?

Linda Tolliver Detiege is a student at Delgado Adult Education in New Orleans, Louisiana. She is 67 years old and is retired. She is a graduate of John Ehret High School, class of 1977, and has some college experience. She is enrolled at Delgado for two reasons: to enhance her education and to help encourage her class to never give up.

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Sanctuary Home

Kearria Allen

BEFORE YOU READ:
1. What is a sanctuary? Look at the images below. What does sanctuary mean in those different contexts? Write a caption for each image.
2. What does sanctuary mean to you?

Kearria Allen

Home is not defined by the structure that surrounds us. It is a place where I can breathe freely and cry without feeling the need to explain myself. Home is where love remains constant, even on the hardest days. It is where laughter rises above chaos and cherished memories are made in every corner.

When my sister and nieces come to visit, we spend time playing games, watching movies, and sharing laughter. Afterward, we gather around the table for dinner as a family. Once the day comes to an end and we say our goodbyes, I go to my room where I can relax, reflect, and recharge.

Home is not just a floor, four walls, and a roof. It is a place where I feel safe, and completely at ease. It is where I can truly be myself. It’s my sanctuary.

AFTER YOU READ:
1. What are the characteristics of Kearria’s sanctuary? Be specific. Cite evidence from the text.
2. Do you have a place that feels like a sanctuary? If so, what are its characteristics?
3. Study how Kearria uses commas. Identify the comma rules she is following.
4. We use the present tense to describe things we do regularly. Note where Kearria does this in the text. Write sentences that describe your habits.
5. Make a slideshow presentation about a sanctuary that matters to you.

Kearria Allen is a student in the Oakton College Adult Education Program in Skokie, Illinois, and a dedicated paraprofessional. She wants to strengthen her own skills so she can better support children in developing their literacy, confidence, and academic abilities. Kearria is committed to lifelong learning and making a positive impact on the lives of students and families in her community.

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