Teaching street kids to read and write:

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I was 12 years old when I invited some friends to help me teach street children how to read and write. I remember not talking to my parents about it because I was afraid they were going to say it was too dangerous; that the children were going to rob us.

So we just went to buy some paper and pens with our pocket money. When we arrived at the stationary store and told the person why we were buying all that paper, she did not hesitate and donated everything to us.

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We invited five kids that used to hang around our homes just asking for food. The classroom was on my parents porch which still is the biggest home on the block. They have a pool and a huge garden. The kids were very impressed with it. Once we started teaching them, they kept asking about the "merenda" (snack). They were obviously hungry and we realized that we needed to solve a bigger problem before going ahead with teaching.

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My mom was not happy with our decision to bring the kids into her home and that was the end of that.

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The children started calling us "Tias", which is the name given to teachers. We became someone they trust, even though we had only this short interaction. They knew we wanted their good.

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One of these children, now a grown man, approached me in one of my trip to Brazil. He was the "flanelinha" ( he gets money by surveilling peoples' cars) one block away from my parents home. He said: Don't you recognize me? I am one of the children you taught a long time ago!

I was astonished. He knew exactly who I am. He has known all this time who I was. I hugged him and felt so bad about his condition. He looked so frail. He did not ask for money, he just wanted me to acknowledge him and I did.

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My parent have lived in this house for 46 years and today. It has always been to slum that are rivals, one in each side about 200 yards from the house. We hear shotguns, we hear police helicopters flying by. But for some reason, my parent's home has never been robbed

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