“I should not be here, but I am.”

This stark statement made by Stephen Sroka was the beginning of his story, which led him from being a self-described “ghetto rat,” to his life as an artist, teacher, and speaker.

Sroka was the National American Indian/Alaska Native Council of School Board Members (AIAN) Equity Signature Speaker at NSBA 21.

He grew up in poverty in a single-parent family. He was bullied for having a crossed eye and speech impediment. Unable to pronounce the letter “s”, he couldn’t say his own name and called himself “Moe.” Shockingly, his third-grade report card (which he’s kept) read, "Parent notified boy is retarded."

Sroka said since he couldn’t compete academically, he worked on athletics. That came to an end in ninth grade after a fight landing him in the hospital for 99 days. A doctor told him he might not walk again, “so start using your brain.” Sroka told him, “I can’t; I’m retarded.” The doctor advised: “Start paying attention to your teachers.” Sroka continued, “The more I listened, the smarter I got.” His education continued, eventually earning a doctorate from Case Western Reserve University. Sroka is an adjunct assistant professor for the School of Medicine at Case Western Reserve University. A former Disney Outstanding Health Teacher of the Year, he was inducted into the National Teachers Hall of Fame.

“I went from ghetto rat to highbrow intellectual because of education and because of people like you,” he said. “This is why I have to make a strong plea for public education today.”

Sroka changed his message from The Power of One to the Power of Many in 2016, after he went into cardiac arrest during a district presentation in Medina, Ohio. He was saved by the quick actions of school personnel and was fortunate to be transported to nearby Cleveland Clinic.

As he went in and out of consciousness, Sroka said he realized that “I was always walking on the shoulders of someone else.” He regretted not thanking his teachers, his speech therapists, and his social workers. “I grew up in the inner city, and I would never say thank you. Saying thank you was a sign of weakness,” he said.

“I am here thanking you for all the Steve Sroka’s in your life, who never had a chance to thank you,” he told the audience. “Maybe the kids don’t come back and thank you, but they mean it.”