People think that a high school drop out, drops out because they get pregnant, or they use drugs, or they lack intelligence, or they are lazy. The fact is, that kids drop out of high school for various reasons, but mostly, I believe kids drop out of high school because they lack hope. I know this, because I am a high school drop out.

As a teenager, I was one angry young woman. I had a tumultuous childhood, growing up in an abusive, neglectful home, with a mom who left in seventh grade, and a father who was not present physically nor emotionally. By the time I hit eighteen, I had quite a chip on my shoulder. Two weeks after I turned eighteen in 1984, I looked for any way to escape my family life, so, I “ran away” with the Carnival. Yes, I was a Carnie for a summer. I say “ran away,” but, my family and friends knew where I was, they just weren’t happy about it, understandably so. My job was giving child care to a family who owned some of the game attractions. I slept in Mack Trucks, or on the ground inside the games themselves that acted like a tent of sorts. I can’t remember what I was paid, but it was enough to make a little money. I hung out with people running from the law, people who had the carnival in their blood, people who lived in their cars, children who didn’t go to school because of a life on the road, self proclaimed gypsies, and some very wise women and men. It was educational, to say the least.

School began in the fall and I had a bad attitude. At one point during the early school year, I tried to move to Los Angeles, only to return two weeks later. By March of 1985, I was so behind on my school work, so angry, so lost, and so out of control, I simply couldn’t deal with my life and school. With those raging emotions, I decided literally one morning when I woke up that I could control the situation, and my life, by dropping out of school. In my eighteen year old mind, this would alleviate the overwhelming feeling of failure and the oppressive weight I carried with the idea that I was not succeeding in school, or really, in life.

Buried in that black hole of teenage-dom and not able to claw my way out, I walked into the school office that day and asked for withdrawal forms. I could do this because I was a legal “adult.” Interestingly enough, no one tried to stop me. I was known as a rebel, but I wasn’t considered a “bad kid.” As I went from class to class with my withdrawal form, only one teacher asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?” With tears forming, I said, “Yes,” but inside, I was saying, “No…of course not.” What did I need that day? I needed someone, anyone, to say to me, “Karen, I have hope for you and think we can do this together. Let me help you help yourself.”

Instead, I walked away from Amador Valley High School in Pleasanton, California that day and turned in my form to the school district office. I was free from that which daunted me, but just as lost as I was when I decided my fate that morning. By the end of that month, March, 1985, I got my GED. I remember the woman who administered the test actually asking me as I turned in my last form, “How did you fall through the cracks?” I would love to ask that nice woman now, “How do any of us fall through the cracks?”

What prompted me to finally write about this period in my life is President Obama’s State of the Union Address, where he spoke about keeping kids in school.

“We also know that when students don’t walk away from their education, more of them walk the stage to get their diploma. When students are not allowed to drop out, they do better. So tonight, I am proposing that every state — every state — requires that all students stay in high school until they graduate or turn 18.”

As I listened to this, I was a bit frustrated. It is not that easy. You can’t just keep a kid in school until they are eighteen because you want to and because it is better for our economy.

In the year 2009, the high school drop out rate was 8.1%, with 17.6% of those drop outs being Hispanic. When I dropped out in 1985, the high school drop out rate was 12.6% with 27.6% being Hispanic. This rate is higher than the African American drop out rate.

I find these numbers interesting. Although I am Hispanic, I do not think I am statistic because I am a Latina. There is no one to blame here, for me, for all drop outs, but there are many reasons why kids drop out.

As an adult who can now articulate where I stood much better now, than then, I think I can speak for most drop-outs. We don’t drop out because it’s cool, or we think we know better and don’t need an education. We don’t drop out because we see a brighter future without a high school diploma. We don’t drop out because we hate school work and think it’s stupid. We don’t drop out and not feel embarrassed. We don’t drop out and not feel like we failed.

Now, what’s important here? Yes, as President Obama said, we need to keep kids in school, not necessarily for the economy though. We need to keep kids in school for one person and one person only—for the kid who wants to drop out. S/he is the most important person in all of this.

How can we, in this village of ours, keep kids in school? We can assume that kids that choose to and want to drop out, are not just doing so because they are lazy or in “trouble.” We can assume that kids who drop out need direction. They need people who will not, regardless of how rebellious the kid is, give up on them. Even kids with good, happy, healthy home lives need adults to believe in them, because I speak as one who knows, kids who near and do drop out, do not believe in themselves. Kids need to know that they matter, that they are loved, and that they are worthwhile human beings, capable of anything.

A corny message? Maybe. Real? Indeed. I am an exception to the statistics of where high school drop outs go, I know that. It took me twenty years to get my BA. Twenty years to believe I could achieve anything I could if I put my mind to it. After that, the two master’s degrees were not easy by any means, but my self esteem and belief in myself far exceeded any doubt I had that I couldn’t do it.  I often wonder though, how many other high school drop outs are teachers, doctors, scientists, writers, counselors, and even theologians, who never get to that place because they simply lost that hope that would have led them down a different path?

Along my path the last ten years, I had a great support system—from my former husband, as well as my daughter, Katy. From old friends who watched helplessly as I dropped out of high school, but who stuck by me all these years. I had the support of professors at Wellesley, Andover Newton, and Boston University STH, who cared about me and encouraged me and my dreams. I had support from my sister, Candy, and yes, if you are wondering, I also had the support of my parents, whom I love, and respect, and understand.

More than anything, these last ten years of school and success lay largely in my sense of hope. This isn’t about me though. This is about the many kids who are on the cusp of dropping out of school. We can and frankly, we should, instill hope in all of our teenagers, especially those that are lost, tired and burdened with difficult home lives. We can encourage and love, with the greatest of our abilities, our own children and the children that are part of our village. It is not just up to the teachers and administrators; it is up to all of us. We can keep kids in school by tutoring, by volunteering at a Boys and Girls Club, by coaching, or by mentoring. In all those actions, we pass on hope.

It may be true that I am a high school drop out with two master’s degrees, but I am so much more than a statistic. More importantly, all those kids out there that are dropping out of high school right now—they are too.

Image courtesy of wikimedia.org and can be found at http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pirate_English_Classroom.jpg