Modest dream sure feels big to these grads
| Saturday, May 30 2009 08:28 PM
Last Updated Wednesday, Jun 03 2009 03:05 PM
The principal gave Luis Castro a nickname his first week at school: Smiley. And not because Castro was full of good cheer. It was pure sarcasm: Castro, a tatted-up gang-banger from south Bakersfield, looked like he'd rather wring necks than hug them.
"He was scary looking when he got here," said Warcester "Cest" Williams, principal of the Community Learning Center's East Truxtun campus. "Nobody messed with him. But he was ready to turn things around in his life. He's an I'm-going-to-take-care-of-business kinda guy. And he did. But people are still a little afraid to look at him."
People found the courage Saturday, though, applauding an achievement that must have seemed absurdly unlikely four years ago, when Castro was skipping school so he could smoke dope all day. But there he was, one of 265 graduates of the Kern County Superintendent of Schools' court and community schools program: Faux parchment in hand, and not the kind suitable for rolling papers. Castro, many of his tattoos now lasered off, is bound for Bakersfield College -- perhaps, one day, to become a high school counselor.
"I think I can understand where a lot of people are coming from," he said.
And there, clutching her diploma, was Ashley Aragon, a former runaway who left Vista High School after giving birth to twins at the end of her junior year. Like Castro, she's graduating from the Community Learning Center's tech program.
"I have no idea what I would have done (without CLC)," she said. "I wouldn't have done anything in life, I guess. I would have been stuck at home with two kids." Instead, she's headed to BC with dreams of becoming a registered nurse.
Christina Garza is allowing herself to dream, too. Things didn’t look so good three years ago, when she she violated the terms of her probation following an intent-to-distribute conviction for cocaine and was forced to leave Frontier High School. She spent time in Pathways, a court-supervised program for juvenile offenders, and discovered responsibility.
"I had a lot of catching up to do, but Mr. Fig kept me motivated," said Garza, who spoke at Saturday's commencement.
Mr. Fig is Richard Figueroa, one of her juvenile probation officers. "She saw the light and got to work," he said.
Garza, who plans to follow in Figueroa's career footsteps, will attend BC.
So will Tiffany Shannon, who was so uncomfortable around groups that she didn't function well in traditional class settings. That was challenging enough. Then her father died. Then her mother had a heart attack. Then she had a baby.
She attended both the CLC campus on 34th Street and Valley Oaks Charter School. At one point she was working with sixth-grade curriculum, but motivated by small successes along the way, picked up speed and emerged a star.
"Most high schoolers don't have to write their essays with a screaming newborn in the background," said Shannon, another of the commencement speakers. "I grew up a lot. As I've gotten older, it's make me think: Regardless of whether you feel uncomfortable, you've got to go for it."
She has two career goals: respiratory therapist and speech pathologist.
Not every graduate is recovering from self-inflicted wounds. Makayla Williams and her single mother were homeless for eight months during her freshman year. Through all the upheaval, through all the uncertainty, she kept fighting.
"I was angry and depressed but I never wanted to give up because I wanted to get out of there," she said.
She graduated from CLC's 34th Street campus doing college-prep level work, and now she's sizing up a possible career as a veterinarian. She'll attend BC with an eye toward transferring. First things first: Her mother loses state aid when Makayla graduates, so she'll have to get a job.
A veterinarian's office would be nice, should she dare to dream that big. And why shouldn't she? She, like many of her 265 fellow graduates, fought hard for a goal most kids would regard as modest. They deserve to dream a little bigger now.
E-mail Robert Price at rprice@bakersfield.com. He's also at www.stubblebuzz.com and twitter.com/stubblebuzz.
