Imagine this: one day, you have it all (a home, a loving family, and a great job). Then bad luck strikes, and one problem after another leads to the loss of your home.
Homelessness is a growing problem in America. A recent study shows that while the number of people without a place to live is down across the state, it's actually higher than normal in Orange County, and those affected may surprise you.
Orange County school board members who attended the September meeting will never forget the moment a second grade teacher walked up to the podium and declared she was homeless.
"I'm lucky if I make $36,000 now as a 13-year-veteran," Angela Curry told the board.
Curry admits she makes more money than many people, but told FOX 35 she and her two little ones, Kaden and Brielle, can't afford a home.
Curry says to understand what happened you need to go back a few years. The 36-year-old is the product of two high school drop-outs. However, Curry insists the Orange County School District saved her.
"I'm that child that's from teenage parents," Curry says. "[I] saw them on drugs, saw them on pretty much anything you could think of. My third grade teacher actually got me to talk in class."
Curry earned an education degree from the University of Central Florida. She then got her dream job, met her dream man, started a family and even split a house she bought with a friend.
But it began to unravel 4 and 1/2 years later.
Curry says her boyfriend left her with a toddler, Kaden, and pregnant with Brielle. She couldn't keep up with the house payments.
"October of 2011 is when she gave me my eviction papers," Curry says.
Now, the family stays in rooms at a friend's house.
"I know [Kaden] knows because until recently he would ask us when are we going home?" Curry says. "When are we going home?"
Curry says she brings home about $36,000 per year. She says that's about $2,000 a month. But subtract daycare and health insurance, and it leaves little to live on.
"I feel like I'm losing money to work," says Curry. "Do you see what I'm saying? But you can't not work."
Through it all Curry is still dedicated to her students.
Curry insists she never meant to share her story in September.
"I didn't mean to tell them I was homeless," says Curry. "No. No. When he asked for my address it shocked me."
Curry was there to help talks between the teachers' union and the district-- not drum up sympathy.
"I know that everything works out in the end," Curry says.
She just hopes her story shines some light on a failing part of American life.
"I know it will end eventually," she says. "It doesn't go on forever."