*If you are listening to the audio recording, please note that I’ve linked several older posts in the text.

It’s May, and although I graduated from high school over 40 years ago, since I work in a high school, each year stirs up memories. As we move closer to June, I see glimpses of teenaged me in the students in our hallway — the excitement I felt as I anticipated the coming changes, the irritability I displayed in the face of uncertainty, the fear I pushed down as I considered the unknown, and the exhilaration that carried me through all of the ceremony — the prom and the banquets and the graduation itself.

I’ve been drawn to this year’s seniors — they might be just a tad more special than other seniors I’ve had (but I probably say that every year). This group were freshmen in 2022-23, our first full in-person year after the pandemic. They had spent middle school (MIDDLE SCHOOL!) in quarantine, and it showed. They were addicted to their phones, had a hard time focusing on academics, and found being in close proximity with their peers quite challenging. I don’t often work with freshmen, but because of Covid and the gaps in learning, I had been tasked with leading a reading intervention class with, at first, the eight freshmen who tested lowest in reading and, eventually, the majority of students in this class. I first wrote about them here in the beginning of that first semester.

They were an unruly bunch, those initial eight, and I was learning the curriculum and the process of the reading intervention program my district had adopted, so, as in many years of my teaching, we were growing together. I was trying to manage their behavior while keeping myself regulated, while also trying to push them to do the thing that was hardest for them — reading. Nevertheless, we persisted, and their end of semester re-tests showed it. In fact, I’ll never forget Kia’s* success story.

The next three semesters I worked with more of the students from this class — the one that is about to graduate in just over a month. I got to know them — their favorite snacks, the look they get on their faces when they are proud, the sound of their voices when they are irritated, and the little ways that they play with one another. Over the past four years I have watched them grow. I have seen them take on responsibility — like decorating the hallways for an open house, being the captain of a team, and completing their 20 hours of mandatory community service. I’ve seen them try sports they’d never tried before, navigate challenging conversations with teachers, and explore college campuses and potential careers. I’ve hugged many of them in the hallway as they’ve celebrated wins and as they have reeled from devastating losses.

And now, I’m watching them count down the days to graduation.

In this context, in addition to the typical anxieties that seniors face — college or career choices, the looming transition, the realities of adulthood — many of our students also face an additional layer of stress, profound financial insecurity. I won’t deny that all seniors are worried about money — how will they pay for college, a vehicle or some kind of transportation, and all the other expenses that come with the transition to adulthood — but for my students, this concern is on a different level altogether.

For these students, the gas money to get to school each day may not be a given, food may not be in the fridge, the electric bill might not have been paid, and yet each senior has to come up with $300 to cover the cost of cap and gown, prom, the senior breakfast, the pinning ceremony, and one 10 x 13 photo of themselves in their regalia.

For you and me, $300 is a chunk of change that we may have to budget for, but for some of my students, it might as well be $30,000. They don’t have it, and they are not going to have it.

This reality looms over these students because if they haven’t paid a deposit, they don’t get to participate in the pinning in March. If they haven’t paid a little bit more, they can’t get their senior t-shirt for decision day on May 1. If they haven’t paid the balance, they can’t go to prom at the end of May. (And if they couldn’t come up with $300, how could they get a dress or shoes or have their hair done?) And finally, if they haven’t paid their balance, they cannot get their diploma.

At each of these junctures, a plea goes out and teachers toss in money for one student or another — a $50 deposit so that one can go to the pinning, another $50 so that another can go to prom, a $100 to cover the balance so someone can get their diploma.

These aren’t just our students. They are our kids, and we are going to do what we can to get them to each of these moments. Each year, we have a number of students who just can’t come up with the money, but this year, the number seems especially high. The reasons are varied — the parents are out of work or have put the student out of the house or have larger issues they are dealing with and this is not even on their radar. The student may be working, but his paycheck may be going to help out the family with bills. Whatever the cause, these students do not have cash for senior dues

For many of our kids, graduation is the pinnacle, the moment they’ve been working for — to possibly be the first in their family to graduate, to overcome the odds, to get a diploma, to become an adult.

And, in the case of some of my students, becoming an adult means facing a very hard financial reality — they just don’t have enough money.

I’m wondering if we might teach them another lesson — that sometimes when you least expect it, someone will come through for you, that you really aren’t all alone in this world, that loads of people want to help, that God will make a way when there is no way.

If you’d like to help support a student’s graduation journey, click here to donate. Make sure to designate “DLA HS graduation dues” in the space provided.

I’ve come to this community so many times — for classroom snacks, for feminine supplies, for Christmas gifts, track shoes, and money for Ubers. Every single time, you’ve come through. I don’t know how I have such a privilege, but as long as you’re with me and as long as I’m working in this space, I’m going to keep asking. The needs are great; your hearts are huge. It’s a perfect match.

before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear. Isaiah 65:24