Marco: Postscript Number One

I wrote a story a few months ago about a student of mine. His fictitious name is Marco. In it, I share his story. I tell about his background regarding his family, his girlfriend and his goals. I tell people about his big giving heart.

I tell how Marco wanted to graduate from high school despite all of the obstacles he faced. His girlfriend had been raped. He had barely enough money to commute to school. His family wanted him to work and drop out. 

He wanted a diploma

He didn't get one.

He was so close. He had all of his schoolwork materials and I am sure they were completed, or close to completion.

My principal and I had met with him more than once to encourage him. I stacked all of his books in a pile and pointed out he was about four inches from graduating. 

He called two weeks before school was out and said he would have to miss his appointment. However, he assured me he had nearly everything done. 

The entire staff was pulling for him. This included our office manager and her assistant, our principal, other teachers and people in the community who had read about him. We had a cap and gown ready. We held off printing the graduation program, hoping he would come in at the last minute and we could keep his name on it.

He did not show up for his last appointment.

Marco had a full plate, to be sure. He had pressure to contribute financially to his mother's household. He had someone give him a job which was physically very demanding. It required heaving lifting and long hours. His employer was taking advantage of him, worse still, he was related to his stepfather. He also babysat and cared for his grandfather. He wanted to contribute to his family financially but was torn.

He was experiencing life's "school of hard knocks" but remained determined to graduate. Hewanted to graduate. He wanted to walk across the stage and prove something to his family members. To himself. He told me this with conviction and tears.

But he didn't show.

I left messages on Marco's cell phone, his home phone, his mom's cell phone, and his dad's work. 

I have a mixture of emotions. I am disappointed. I am sad. I am angry. I am hopeful. 

I hope he calls me up in the fall and brings in all of his completed work. I hope I can see him walk across the stage next June.

I hope that I can write "Marco: Postscript Number Two."

I want to pen the words, "He graduated!"

The thing is, even if I don't ever get to write those words, I long for Marco to know he is special. He has value and worth and that he really can do anything he is determined to do. He does not need a diploma or to walk across a stage to know it. He doesn't have to show it to his family, his teacher or his friends. 

If witnessing his character in extreme circumstances is an indicator, I know he will be successful, with or without graduating. I hope he knows that too.