I remember it like it was yesterday. Every kid dreams of graduating and being done with 12 years of school. I had mixed feelings. I did not have a clue what I wanted to do with my life after graduation, so a blessing came my way.
In those days, grade thirteen was offered in a high school setting. It was, they said, equivalent to first year university. Those who were serious about their direction in life and knew they were going on to earn some sort of degree, jumped straight to university. I did not, so, in effect, my high school days were dragged out for one more year. My father paid the tuition, as it was a private school. Where he got the money, I have no idea. I think he was struggling at the time with his own financial challenges.
I have never needed to show this diploma, although on three occasions it was required of me for successful applications to various jobs. I simply said that I had graduated and that was that.
Now I am cleaning out a closet and there it is, for what it is worth. That, plus $1.37, will get me a cup of coffee for sure.
2 comments:
That's a relic!
Then, considering that I was 18 years old at the time, what does that make me?
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