A phone call from Dr. Clayton got me out of bed at 8:30. He wanted me to meet John at the front door of Wanamaker Jr. High School for his graduation at 9:30. 1 tore around, left my room a wreck, my unmade bed a pile of rejected dresses and caught the subway at 9:15. With horror, I realized that I should have a card and a gift so I grabbed a pretty soft touch card at Zavelle's on Broad St. and tucked $5 inside (couldn't find any regular graduation card with black people on it), and then walked down Columbia at break neck pace.

When I got to the school, John and Dr. Clayton were nowhere in sight. It was 20 til 10:00. 1 waited in front of the auditorium and pretty soon, hurried and flustered, Mr. Domal came rushing by. He saw me and skidded to a stop.

"John isn't here," he said apologetically, "And I fear he may not come. I am looking for him all morning." He shook his head. "John got into a little trouble earlier this week

"What kind of trouble?"

"Well, he was standing in the school yard with a group of boys and they were smoking marijuana. A teacher recognized John. The teacher said she didn't see John smoking, but –“ he shrugged. "John was confronted with it yesterday and he was very upset and angry Well, let me check around the corner.” He took off.

"Lord, don't let this become a root of bitterness in that will destroy everything he's gained this year," I prayed silently. I stood by the door and watched all the beautiful dresses and styles come in. Dr. Clayton walked by. "John isn't here himself yet," he said with a smile. A man walked up to a teacher in front of me who must have lived close by.

"Do you have a suit for a boy about my size?" he asked in a low voice.

She shook her head. "No, my son is a little smaller why?”

"Boy's mother didn't buy him anything for graduation.”

She shook her head, "That's a shame."

I kept standing there watching Dr. Clayton and Mr. Domal come by every few minutes. No sight of John. I began to feel I'd spent a totally useless morning, and I could have had my driving lesson I'd canceled and taken my test before I went out to camp. The auditorium filled up, the girl graduates lined up outside to march in, and all of a sudden I saw John outside the school door in white pants, white print sports shirt, and a red safari hat. It looked like the ticket man was ordering him away! I rushed out.

"John!"

He didn't see me because he was laughing and talking to someone through the glass door.

"John!"

He turned around and a wave of shock, recognition, and almost guiltiness passed over his face.

"Aren't you going to march?"

He grinned sheepishly. "No, they won't let me march, man, cuz I got in some trouble yesterday."

"Oh, yes, they will!" I answered. He looked at me surprised.

"Dr. Clayton and Mr. Domal have been running around looking for you all morning. “C'mon."

"But they won't let me in," he said.

I was about to hassle the ticket guy when I saw Dr. Clayton in the hall with his back toward us, talking to someone.

"There's Dr. Clayton!" I ran into the building, grabbed his arm, and said, "Dr. Clayton, John's outside." He wheeled around and headed for the door. I no longer saw John. Then when we walked outside, I saw a flash of white pants through green grass.

"Oh, he ran!" I said. That didn't faze Dr. Clayton. He kept right on going, down those steps. We saw John with his friends half a block away.

"JOHN!" He thundered, "COME HERE!

John came. A few minutes later Dr. Clayton came up the steps with John, who was grinning widely.

"You know why he wouldn't come?" Dr. Clayton said to me in a softer voice. "His mother didn't get his graduation suit in time!" He looked down at John. "If he'd told me ahead of time, I would have taken him downtown myself well, he does want you to stay. You can stand in the back with him after the kids march in." So we did. And John watched his own graduation. He’d worked so hard all year and come so far not to sit up on that stage. I don't know what some parents think of. Halfway through, Dr. Clayton came up to us.

"I must go," he said. He shook John's hand and Denise's, who had been standing beside John. I think she likes him. Denise is from 10th and Thompson. Her twin sister, Diedre, was at camp this summer, with the other teenage girls from there. I have all their little sisters in Bible study but I can't get them, doggone it! Diedre and Denise are both such gazelles Diedre has won awards in track. She's a fantastic runner. So graceful.

Anyway, I've seen Dr. Clayton hassle with Denise several times this year. Her mother just hated his guts especially, I think, when he called her in for a conference, with a bunch of other parents, and Denise, and some other kids, when they were found with marijuana. I was tutoring in a corner, and didn't hear everything, but I gathered that he was giving parents and the kids a rough time, and would not be intimidated, when some of the mothers got irate.

But today, as he was leaving, Denise motioned for him to bend down like she wanted to tell him something, and when he leaned over, she kissed him on the cheek quickly and shyly. He smiled and walked off. I don't think there's a father in her home.

Called Ronnie to find out how his grade card came out. He said in a very matter of fact voice, "Oh, I flunked."

"You did? I mean, for real?"

"Yeah!"

"Well,…What's that mean? You gotta go through the 10th grade again?"

"Yeah."

"Well,” I said, thinking fast. “There's something important God wants you to learn that you missed, so He's letting you go back. Were any of the grades higher this time than last time?"

"mmmmm yeah."

"Which ones?"

"mmmmm lemme see mmmm, well the numbers were better.”

Numbers have to do with attitude, behavior, effort, etc.

“Are you upset about it?" I asked him. For me, failing a grade would be something very serious and terrible. But Ronnie was talking so calmly and casually about it, that I was too.

“No. I'm just back where I started from."

I don't think Ronnie attaches the same seriousness and importance to it that I do though for him too it wasn't something to be proud of.

"Well, you know, Ronnie, if you ever decided to get serious and put your mind to it, I don't think you'd have too much trouble with school work."

"I can't I mean I can, but I don't," he stumbled to explain.

Well, I told myself, the Lord knows what's best for his life. I sure wish he would get turned on to education though.

Today was my last day at 10th and Thompson. I went into the high rise 12th floor to get little Gigi. She's a very cute, petite ten year old. As we were riding down the elevator, she said wide eyed, "Guess what we saw yesterday, Miss Jeanne?"

"What?"

"A man takin' dope!"

"You did! Where?"

"Nora and me was walkin' down the stairs from 9th floor because the elevator wasn't working, and we saw him on stairs.

"How was he taking it?"

"He put a needle in his arm.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He told us to get outa there. Nora and I turned and ran up the stairs, we was so scared!"

"Is that the first time you'd ever seen anything like that?"

She nodded. That high rise building is one of the cleaner more attractive ones too much nicer than the 23rd and Diamond ones where graffitti and incinerator suet crust on the walls, and garbage is strewn up the stairs and in the halls, which are dim with smoke from the incinerator, and there's a smell of urine and burning trash, and the elevators shimmy and don't work half the time.

footnote from 2008

Dr. Clayton's suite was actually an alternative school at Wanamaker Jr. High School. I should also mention that the custom of graduating from 8th grade was new to me, not one we practiced back home in Indiana on the farm. But I digress. In my tutoring and public relations travels around the city, I was amazed at all the creative alternatives the public school system in Philadelphia had come up with to help children who didn't fare well in conventional classrooms. It was refreshing. Because of the gang problem in Philadelphia I also recall that the doors to the schools were locked - someone had to let you in. Policemen routinely patroled the halls. Doors to the classrooms were kept locked while classes were in session. Someone had to let you in and out. Teachers lived with this and accepted it. And at least at school kids were kept more safe - if they could get there in one piece.