I was born in a very poor section of Brooklyn on December 7,1941. There were five persons in my family including my father, my mother, my two sisters and myself. I was the only son, and my childhood was spent playing in the streets with the other boys and getting into troubles. I was often punished by my parents and teachers.After elementary school, where I had been an average student, I went to a vocational high school① in my neighborhood. My friends were all boys who cared nothing about studying and my grades went from bad to worse.

 

　　From the time I entered the second high school, I began to take an interest in my studies and my grades improved. I started to listen to the other students discuss intelligent issues②and soon I began to take part in. One day, someone asked me to join the Negro Culture Club where the students discussed the contributions of the Negro race. Now my eyes were really opened. For the first time, I learned that my race had many famous people who had played an important role in world history. I was filled with a new sense of pride and self-respect. From then on, I read every book in the school library on Negro history. Also during these high school years, I met many officials from the new African nations. Because most of them spoke French, I learned to speak French and then went on to teach myself Spanish. In my senior year, I was elected president of my class. My goals were now definite and I knew I want to continue my education.