The Almost Drop Out.

It’s almost summer in 2016. Drake and Rihanna dominate every major radio station. Obama is still president. It’s my senior year of high school and my peers and I have a bad case of senioritis. A dime bag of Mary Jane passed around 8 kids huddling in the park looking out for a security guard who cared enough to stop us. Life is good. From this perspective at least. After that dime bag emptied out and I got onto an A train going toward the heights my reality would come back to me. This year was supposed to be my year. College on the horizon. Prom, graduation, etc. everything a public school kid had to look forward to i found myself on the outskirts of. I had run away from home after the last physical altercation with my father that I would stand for. I grabbed my backpack and ran 13 flights down. Out the door and down the street I kept running. A cop car drove passed me sirens blaring. I knew it was for me. I ran faster. Neither my father or me were hurt by this altercation but he always wanted the last word. In this case the last word would be me in handcuffs.

That was back in March of 2016. Now it’s June and I still hadn’t been home yet.Graduation was approaching and I realized I should’ve been saving since last year for my senior dues. Prom $180. Graduation $110. Cap and gown $55. Senior trip $250+. Even as an adult now with semi stable income this wouldn’t be something I could pull out of thin air. I needed to support myself. I was once a student who wouldn’t dare to miss school. Now I was averaging 3 full days a week. The other two days were used trying to find a job.I had been offered a morning position at a Dunkin’ Donuts downtown but would have to miss school for it. Survival mode was kicking in and suddenly senior activities and dues weren’t important anymore. I needed to eat and have clean clothes. . .

My English teacher from freshman year, Ms. Muraca was in charge of senior activities. She knew part of what I had been enduring outside of school and she said if Ineeded anything to just let her know. Another teacher had said the same thing but reneged the offer. Since then I had been too afraid to ask anyone for help.

After school in the auditorium is where we could get our cap and gowns for graduation. $55. I explained to ms. Muraca that i was waiting for my aunt to PayPal me the money. $55. She lived in another country and she was at work(both true) so it would take a few hours before she could send it. $55. She said she understood and said i could wait in the back until it was time. $55. For two hours i watched her hand out cap and gowns. $55. I could see her so proud of her once freshman class excitedly grabbing their gowns. She looked at each of us like her own kids that finally grew up. $55. I wanted her to look at me like that. $55

Somewhere around the 3 hour mark i was still sitting in the back. She made a motion that caught my attention and we locked eyes. She looked down at the gown and then back at me. She did it again and twice more until i caught on. She’s trying to tell me something. My heart started beating faster and i sat up on the edge of my seat. She mouthed the words “I’m going to give it to you”. And looked at the robe one more time. She put her finger up to her mouth and motioned for me to be quiet . I walked to the front of the auditorium where she quickly put the robe in my hand and told me to go. Quickly i left with the robe and a few weeks later i crossed the stage wearing that blue robe.To my surprise the entire room erupted in applause when my name was called.

All through high school I had amazing grades and recommendations from teachers and yet I almost missed my graduation because of $55. I contemplated not going for so long but that act of kindness from an amazing English teacher confirmed I was supposed to be there not in some Dunkin’ Donuts making someone’s breakfast.

Thank you Ms.Muraca and A Philip Randolph Campus High School class of 2016. Thank you so much.