You're On Your Own Kid, Part Five: A Hail Mary

 Principal Galas and Counselor Mrs. Ward gave me the bad news.  They were not permitted access to my transcripts from Our Lady of Peace because of the unpaid tuition.  The most horrible part of this news was that not only were my 11th grade transcripts being withheld, but my 10th and 9th grade report cards were being withheld as well.  Because there was no official record, going back to the beginning of high school, I would have to start all over again as a 9th grader. Hearing this news was like being slapped in the face. I thanked the ladies for their time and effort and got up to leave.  Mrs. Ward stopped me from leaving.  They had come up with an idea, a truly "Hail Mary" idea, and I was the only one who could pull it off. She explained that everyone, even Sister Edward Mary, had a boss. My mission was to go over her head and talk directly to the big boss:  The most Reverend Bishop Leo T Maher, head of the entire San Diego County Catholic Diocese. She gave me his working address and a pep talk.  I took it and told her I'd think about it.  

This was a crazy idea for many reasons. I was very shy and quite intimidated by authority figures.  The past year had been hellish, and I really didn't feel like anything would ever go my way. No one just shows up unannounced and uninvited to the Bishop's office for a surprise meeting.  Who did I think I was, anyhow?  Sister Edward Mary didn't care.  Why would the Bishop care? I figured that it would be a big humiliating waste of time.  But Mrs. Ward did describe it as a Hail Mary play.  I really had nothing to lose.

The next day, I got on my unreliable moped and rode through Mission Hills, down Juan Street to Old Town, over to Morena Blvd, and then up Linda Vista Road to the University of San Diego, a Catholic college set high on a hillside that overlooked Mission Bay.  The Bishop worked somewhere on that campus, and I intended to find him. I found the prettiest, most ornate building and started there.  My instincts were correct.  This was where he was!

I made my meeting request with the receptionist.  She called the secretary, and both of them told me a meeting wasn't possible.  I persisted, asking for just 5 minutes of his time.  One of them made a call, and a priest came out of an office, followed by another.  I stood there in my blue jeans and peasant blouse and calmly explained that I only needed a couple of minutes to tell the Bishop my problem and ask him for help.  One of the priests left the reception area for a few minutes and then came back to escort me to see the Bishop.  I was in!  Now I needed to convince the Bishop that I was worthy of a break.

I walked into the Bishop's large office, feeling very nervous and suddenly undeserving.  Bishop Maher was sitting behind a large wooden desk that had very neatly stacked piles of papers and files.  He seemed tall, even though he was sitting down.  He was thin, even in his fancy Maroon-colored  multi-layered Bishop attire. He looked at me and asked me to take a seat and explain why it was so important to meet.  I took a deep breath, remembered that this was my only chance, and started to talk.  I told him of our family struggles, how my stepdad left and took all our money, how my mom was unable to pay the bills and that Sister Edward Mary would not allow me to return for my senior year, and that I wanted to graduate from public high school but had no proof that I ever attended high school at all.  I asked him if he could call Sister Edward Mary and get her to release my grades.  And then I waited for his answer.  

The Bishop had a very controlled poker face.  I could not tell if he believed me, if he cared, or if he wanted me to go away.  He looked down, rubbing his chin and sighing.  After many minutes, he looked at me and said he didn't think there was much he could do. I thanked him for his time and got up to leave.  Before I reached the door, something got hold of me. That something was called Desperation. I turned around and got down on my knees. It was time to beg. It was the final second of the Hail Mary.

"Please, I am really begging you to just consider talking to her about it," I pleaded.  "I want to get my diploma.  I want to move ahead of my past.  I didn't get in trouble, or get pregnant, or use drugs, or do anything to get myself into this situation. Please give me this last chance to fix the past." 

That was it.  I could do nothing more.

The Bishop was moved.  "Let me make a few phone calls," he said.  I thanked him and left his office. 

Two days later, Mrs. Ward called me with the great news.  All of my OLP transcripts had been sent to her, and upon review, she found that I had already fulfilled so many requirements, I would need to complete only four classes!  Hallelujah! 

I began my final semester of High School in January 1979.  I took Biology, Home Economics, Reading, and Civics. Piece of cake.  I was done five months later.  All A grades. No drama. And believe it or not, I was asked to speak at the commencement ceremony.   Every kid in my graduating class was there because they had fallen into trouble and someone had given them a hand up.  So it seemed appropriate to speak of adversity, of second chances, and of acceptance. 

There I am on the right, one of six speakers.

I started the speech this way:  

"On this graduation day, I am reflecting on my first day at Garfield.  Coming from an All-Girl's private school, I knew right away that this school would be very, very different!"  The crowd roared with laughter.  Then I said:

" I was expecting the worst, but actually I found the best.  The best teachers, counselors, people who actually cared about me, about us." 

 And then the crowd exploded into cheers and applause for the wonderful people who cared enough to help us problem kids out of our tight spots.

a grainy shot of me up there making a speech

I never thought I would end up speaking at my high school graduation!

Mom, Aunt Sadie, and big sister Lynda came to see me graduate.  Lynda made me a beautiful white graduation cake, and I saved the topper.

Me and big sister Lynda, graduation day

They made a statue for the Bishop in 1991, after he died. 

 In the end, I realized that the people who help you when you need it the most are not necessary the people that you expected.  Mom wasn't there for me and I didn't dare ask Lynda for any help, because Mom would go ballistic.

 It was, instead, four unlikely people: Mrs. Woods, my grooming customer, Garfield Principal Dr. Galas, Counselor Mrs. Ward, and Bishop Leo Maher who came to my aid.  In the 11th hour, thanks to those four, I finally wasn't on my own after all.