Trying to Work It Off
On a day in September of 1986, my father dropped me off at boarding school, gave me a five-dollar bill, and never contacted me again. He never paid my tuition, so I had to take every job that I could find in order to try to pay for school. Working for $4 an hour, I didn’t come close to paying off my bill, but the school let me stay because I was a model student. During my graduation ceremony, I opened my little diploma thing expecting to see a five figured bill, but instead, there was a note. It said congratulations, on your graduation. A group of us who believe in you and love you have taken care of your bill. We are proud to present you with your diploma. I later found out that a friend’s dad went fundraising because he didn’t want me to enter life at eighteen under crushing debt.