My journey begins in January 1978 in Cologne. The start wasn’t particularly pleasant; I apparently wasn’t too eager to stick around – my heart stopped, but as you can read here, the doctors managed to bring me back to life. A strange life, one in which I’m still searching for my purpose and place.
The tiny baby that I was actually had everything one could wish for a good start: a mother and an older brother who both loved me. Sure, my father shirked his responsibility when he got the joyful news that I was on the way, but unfortunately, that happens all too often. And I think that’s probably just as well because what can a child possibly expect from such a person? Continue reading „My Way – Part One, a Childhood in Germany …“
Special School: I don’t know if the common vernacular today has another name for it than the one used back then: „Dummschule“ (stupid school)! When the dice were cast for me, it was commonly called “Dummschule.” And I sincerely hope that things have changed for the children who attend such schools today. Back in my day, however, the colloquial term was fitting. Overwhelmed teachers, distressed children – some victims of violence, others perpetrators – and the insane hope of incompetent teachers, or just plain ignorance, that the relationship between victims and perpetrators would somehow stabilize on its own. 
I had now, more or less, successfully made it through my school years. So, it was time to look for an apprenticeship! After all, I had a secondary school leaving certificate that wasn’t too bad, and I thought I could now really get started. I would have loved to become a locksmith or carpenter, as I was fascinated by what could be created from those materials and because I wasn’t entirely untalented when it came to working with my hands.