I asked him what he wanted to be when he was growing up. 
He awkwardly changed the subject. 
I offered up, "Well, I wanted to be a ballerina." 
He smiled.
I told him that those dreams were shattered when the kids started to make fun of me.
He looked at me shyly with hesitation and spoke in a quiet voice.
"I didn't want to be anything growing up."
I persisited, "not even a firefighter or police officer?"
He looked with even more fear in his eyes as he offered,
"I didn't want to be anything because I didn't have a chance.  I just wanted to get out of the abuse and the poverty and grow up."
He paused, "that must not sound that cool."
I looked at him, with tears in my eyes, "that's the best dream that I've ever heard of."