They Tried To Keep My Poor Father Out Of My Graduation, But I Chose Him In Front Of Everyone
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Chapter 19 / 20
Chapter 19
Years later, I became a social worker for students whose parents were separated, absent, incarcerated, struggling, or simply misunderstood.
People asked why.
I always thought of Dad’s cracked shoes.
His old suit.
The way he lowered his eyes while people judged him by fabric and money.
I thought of how children are fed stories about parents and forced to swallow them before they can read the evidence.
In my office, I kept a photo from high school graduation.
Dad and me on stage.
His old suit.
My diploma.
The crushed daisies.
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Students sometimes asked about it.
I told them, “That’s the day I learned poor is not the same as unworthy.”
