A Long Way, Baby

About a year ago, a friend of mine read a piece of non-fiction I had attempted that included the following line:

"I was about to graduate from high school, something I thought I would never do."

She highlighted this line and made the comment:  I just can't believe this.   

I had to laugh because my "now" friends don't know me like my "then" friends do, so I can see how that line may surprise them.  But it is very true.  And I've come a long way, baby. 

 

School was never difficult for me.  I'm not saying I was highly intelligent, not at all, it just came easy.  I think it does for some people, and I was lucky.  Really lucky, considering that I attended so many different schools in my life: 20+ and still counting.  But it wasn't the school changes that made me write the line above. 

I was a teenage runaway. Twice.  The first time I was only gone for 4 months. I was fourteen, so getting back into school was easy when I finally came home after that eye-opening summer.  But the second time wasn't as easy. I was gone almost a year, and by the time I made it home, I was 17.  My friends were in their Senior year, and I had missed a lot of school.  Oh, I had learned a lot in that year, but not anything that would ever show up on a comp exam---and several things that my peers would never know.  Thank God.

 

Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to go back.  I had seen a lot of things in the previous year, and looking toward the future, well, it didn't look very bright.  College wasn't going to be an option.  I lived with my Dad and we were very poor.  A job seemed like such a better idea at the time.  But I had a history of not choosing the 'better' idea, so I did go back, thinking at the very least, I would get my high school diploma.

It's hard to go back and be a kid when you have already been an adult, and I wasn't very good at that. Luckily for me, I lived with my Dad, who understood, and just stood by me and let me try to be both.  I showed up to school drunk more often than not, I missed enough days  the last semester that it is a miracle they allowed me to graduate, and I was listed with two others in our high school yearbook as "The Best Partiers", if that gives you any indication of how things went.

But I did it, and I got that little piece of paper, which never is far from me.  Do you know where your high school diploma is? Mine is right here, within reach of my desk---and I look at it a lot.  Of all of the bad decisions I made as a teenager, that was, undoubtedly, the best decision I made.  It took me a few years to get my life in order, but when I was ready, that little piece of paper was ready too.
 

I discovered over the years that I liked school.  I liked learning.  And although I learned a lot on the street, it was strength of mind that made me powerful and gave me the most joy.   So I kept going.  And haven't stopped. 

Today, I graduate with my Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing---my second Masters degree.  I will add that to my Bachelors in History and Business Administration and my Diploma in Nursing.

Tomorrow, I will start looking at what is next.  I want to learn Spanish.  I want to learn to ballroom dance.  I also want a law degree and a PhD. 

I think I'll do them all.