Chapter 17: Bigger and Better Things

June 5, 1981

Graduation Night

In this life, my graduation from high school took place the day before my eighteenth birthday. Mom and Dad surprised me with a present to celebrate both occasions. It was a mid-seventies Datsun four-door sedan, light brown in color, and still in decent shape. Finally, I had my long-cherished set of wheels.

My parents did, however, insist that I commit to finding work during the summer each year I was in college. I'd use part of what I earned to help pay for the car's insurance and maintenance, not to mention my college living expenses. Never one to expect a free ride, I agreed to this stipulation without any reservations.

With this thought in mind, I paid a visit to the restaurant where I'd worked the previous fall, and asked if they'd take me back for the summer. I made sure they knew that I was heading off to college in September, and they agreed to hire me again.

The days between the prom and graduation were a whirlwind of activity. I had to deal with finals; my academic motivation level understandably wasn't as high as it had been earlier in the year, but I wanted no repeat of what had happened back in the first quarter. I muddled through finals and was pretty sure I'd done reasonably well.

Evie and I had lunch together every day with the gang, and rode home together after school, right up until the final day of exams. Mostly, we just talked; there was a silent understanding between us that once graduation slipped by, we'd have plenty of time for "to be continued". I had very little chance to speak privately with either Dave or Eileen, certainly not at any length; I'd only gotten assurances that their prom date had been "great".

And finally, it was the morning of the big day. I went shopping for some items I thought I might need later, stopping at the local drugstore, as well as a nearby Sears.

The graduation ceremony was held indoors, in the school gym. Like most graduations, it was packed to the rafters with humanity. I sat next to Evie, with Dave and Rick also in close proximity. Again like most graduations, it was intensely boring. We just kind of tolerated it all, waiting for, as far as we were concerned, the one true highlight: Patti's valedictory address.

Patti was introduced by the school principal, Father Murphy, who handed her a microphone, as she steered her chair away from the podium. There had been some talk about constructing a ramp apparatus so that Patti could give her speech from behind the podium. But she had nixed that idea.

"I'm not hiding behind any podium. I want everyone to see me as I am," she'd declared.

She began her speech in the typical manner, graciously thanking her family, a few of her favorite teachers, as well as her friends, mentioning Rick, Dave, Evie and I by name. I had half expected her to begin with a self-deprecating, humorous remark dealing with her disability, as many others might have; I was quite impressed to see that she did not. She wasn't going to make an issue of it.

But it turned out that she had some other pressing issues to bring up. She began by briefly referring to her special circumstances – the only direct mention she would make of them.

"Ever since my accident, I haven't asked for any special treatment beyond what is absolutely necessary. But by and large, I've gotten it anyway. I'm eternally grateful for that. But there is a bigger obstacle here, one that provides a greater challenge than simple partial paralysis. The enemy," she said, pausing for effect, "is ignorance."

"What do I mean by ignorance? It's something that, and it pains me to say this, I've observed far too often in my interactions here at St. James. Sometimes it's subtle and hard to define. But it's a broad term, and in fact, there are others close to me who have dealt with it more directly than I have. So, let me stop talking about myself. Since I'm fortunate enough to have been given this opportunity to speak with you all, let me be the eyes and mouth of those who have truly seen ignorance of the worst kind."

"She isn't going where I think she's going, is she?" I asked Evie in disbelief.

Evie's smile told me that she knew exactly where Patti was headed.

"I'm about to tell you a story about two dear friends of mine, two of the finest members of our senior class. I won't embarrass them by mentioning their names, but many, if not most, of you will know exactly who I'm talking about. One day, one of these friends decided to ask the other to be his date at the senior prom. A normal, natural occurrence, right? Most of my fellow students went through the process of selecting a date, or being selected as one. It's a wonderful, pleasant thing. And it should have been normal and natural for my two friends. Except it wasn't. Why? Because they just happen to be of different races."

A murmur went through the audience as everyone suddenly realized who Patti's two friends were. Many eyes turned in our direction. I was grateful that Patti had opted not to mention us by name, but it hadn't provided much of a cover. Evie, again with the air of someone who'd been told about this in advance, just grinned.

"From day one, my two friends were not only shunned, but in a few instances, openly harassed. I had the pleasure of having lunch with them almost every day this past school year. There was a small group of us who ate together each day, and I felt as though we were close-knit. That is, until the day when the prom plans of my two friends became known. They made no announcement about it to anyone, but you know how the high school grapevine operates. That day, our group became suddenly reduced in size. A few of our so-called friends, who'd socialized with us on a friendly basis all year, nonetheless fled our table with nary an explanation because they didn't approve of interracial dating. None of them have said a word to us since. That, my friends, is the true definition of ignorance."

Wow! I wondered what Joe and Andy, not to mention Diana and Tony, were feeling right about now.

"To be sure, there were those who remained loyal to them, showing them once and for all who their real friends were. We formed up into a smaller group, and quickly discovered that all of us had become outcasts. We continued to be shunned in the days leading up to the prom, and during the prom itself. Oh, don't get me wrong, we had a wonderful time that evening. But we had fun in isolation. It shouldn't be that way."

At that point, I figured Patti would turn to other topics. But she didn't. In fact, her strongest words were yet to come.

"I ask you all: What kind of culture permits such a thing to happen? Yes, this type of thing is prevalent throughout society. Its scope is simply too large to be adequately addressed in a setting like this. But what can be done about it here at St. James? We are a Catholic institution. And this kind of ignorance certainly goes against Christian principles, at least the way I interpret them. Could we have discussed this with a teacher, perhaps? In fact, we did talk about this with one enlightened faculty member, who was more than sympathetic. Again, I won't put him in the spotlight by mentioning his name, but he knows who he is, and he has my everlasting respect and admiration."

Of course, she was talking about Mr. Hawkins.

"I don't pretend to know where the rest of the faculty stands on this," she went on, "but the accountability has to extend beyond the faculty. How could a state of affairs such as this be allowed to come about? The problem begins at the top. It is my belief that the administration of this school not only implicitly permits this kind of ignorance by looking the other way, but actively fosters an atmosphere that allows this type of backward thinking to thrive."

Zing!

"Careful, Patti," I muttered under my breath, although I fully agreed with her. "They haven't given you your diploma yet."

"In closing," continued Patti, "I would just like to remind the powers that be here at St. James that we, the students, are the innovators of tomorrow. A wise man once said that innovation springs from unique perspectives. We are a diverse human race, and diversity and open-mindedness need to be embraced, not shunned.

"Thank you, and good luck to everyone, most especially my fellow members of the Class of '81."

That was Patti, talking about diversity, many years before it would become an overused buzzword. She was truly ahead of her time. The applause was thunderous. Patti returned the microphone to Father Murphy, who looked none too pleased. I wasn't surprised. The school administration had just had its stance on discrimination called into question in a very public setting.

I glanced over at Evie. She was crying; tears were running down her face. I affectionately put my arm around her.

"I'm just so damn proud of her," Evie choked out. "What an amazing person she is."

I had to concur. When the chips were down, Patti had our backs without hesitation, at considerable risk to herself.

Finally, it was time to collect our diplomas one by one, or rather, blank pieces of cardboard that would be exchanged for actual diplomas after the ceremony was complete. After a few closing remarks, we were set free to go and collect our diplomas. Once mine was in hand, I hunted down Evie, who was clutching her diploma as well. I surprised her with a congratulatory kiss that was harder, longer and more passionate than usual under these circumstances. Well in view of many people, I might add.

"Mmm," she purred. "Trying to make a statement, are you?"

"Not entirely," I winked. "Let's go find Patti. We need to thank her, big time." We found her in short order.

"Help me up out of this chair, will ya, Dreamy?" Patti smiled. "I wanna give you a real hug."

So, I reached down, put my arms around her, and lifted her up. She responded with a full-body hug. Then, she put both hands on the side of my face, and kissed me, hard, right on the mouth. Finally, she pulled away and grinned at me.

"I always wanted to do that," Patti proclaimed.

"Egan," came a voice from behind me, accompanied by a laugh, "watch it."

Wow, I thought. Possessiveness from Evie? Amazing!

But of course, there was no animosity between the two of them. It was all in fun. They exchanged a hug of their own.

"That was an incredible speech, Patti," Evie told her. "And thanks for sticking up for us. It means more than you know."

"Same goes for me," I smiled at her. "You've got a friend for life. I was worried about one thing, though. You have your diploma, don't you?"

Patti knew what I was getting at. She patted the envelope that was sitting along the side of her chair.

"I earned that diploma, fair and square. They can't take it away from me. I actually asked a lawyer to look over that speech after I composed it, just to make sure it wouldn't get me in trouble. He assured me that they wouldn't do shit. Withholding my diploma because I produced evidence of discrimination? There's no way they'd want to deal with the bad publicity that would result if they did that."