From “Dropout to Doctorate: Breaking the Chains of Educational Injustice” By Terrence Lester, PhD
One day, I decided that I was going to finally drop out. I was simply going to not complete the work and leave. But I was crying inside from the unresolved emotional pain I carried inside me. I saw the same pain in the eyes of the other students, who were carrying the same types of trauma. There were students who were unhoused, living from place to place; young ladies who were pregnant; and those who told me that they had experienced abuse and were still trying to heal. Many of the conversations I had only made me question why I would continue to show up at school when nothing about my education up to that point actually solved any of the problems and emotions that were swirling inside me.
One day, I pushed myself away from the desk, stood up, and walked out of the classroom, even while the teacher was sitting in front of the classroom. Three friends joined me, and we made our way to the front of the building. Overwhelmed by my emotions of sadness, realizing that I was falling behind in school, and unable to cope with the anxiety and depression, I told my friends “I am done.” I was at a breaking point and thought the only way to deal with everything that I was carrying inside was to give up on school and myself. How could I concentrate on school while shouldering the immense stress from home?
As we distanced ourselves from the school, approximately forty yards away, a man experiencing homelessness called out to our group. I was the only one to respond. I walked away from my friends and approached him, noticing his tattered clothing and unkempt beard scattered with bits of trash. Yet I knew something was different about him because he did not ask for any money; he just smiled at me. I could feel his positive spirit, and his appearance did not bother me, nor did his housing status. I guess I just needed someone to say something to me that was uplifting.
The man stumbled toward me like he had been drinking and pointed toward the school. He asked, “Is that your school back there?”
I said, “Yes,” and he held his head down. I’ll never forget how his face reflected such deep shame. But in that brief moment, he said words I needed to hear: “Whatever you do, do not stop getting your education, or you will find yourself in a situation like mine. One day, you will become a leader.”