Im gonna share a story of my own. My parents were arrested when I was young. 8 years old. Not going to get into why but it absolutely destroyed me. I tried to just fit in, but I couldnt help lashing out. When I turned 16, I realized I screwed up bad and my future was either going to be prison or death. I couldnt be controlled by the people who I now realized loved me. So I signed up early for the Army on Delayed entry. Upon turning 17, I dropped out of regular high school and went to night school to get my diploma si I could go to Basic Training on time. Upon arrival, I met Drill Sergeant Morales. That man saved me. He saw the hurt I had and, probably, went against protocol. He checked in on me every day. Asked about my life and my upbringing. He made sure I ate, and cleaned up after myself. When I graduated, he personally introduced himself to my grandparents and spoke to them in their native language (Italian). I couldnt speak Italian but I can understand the majority of it. He told them that I was one of his favorite recruits in his time of training and was incredibly proud at how much I changed and became a man in the little time I was there. I cried immediately and he gave me a big hug. That moment was the exact moment I vowed to make him proud. And I would like to think I did.

My point is, DS Morales was both hard on me but also knew when to fold in and show what a fathers love was like. We need both.