He said, “You can’t talk, you can’t speak, you can’t read.”  No one ever said that to me before.  And I always dreaded that someone would say that to me because I really couldn’t read well and I really didn’t speak terrifically.  Certainly my accent was Caribbean. So his complaints were dead on.  But I had to now not push that aside.  I had to then look at it and say wait a minute, that’s the me that he sees.  Therefore, I have to assume the responsibility for either remaining that way or changing it and to change it for what purpose? I have to change it because I felt in myself that if I don’t change, I would be less the person that I perceived myself to be.