By: Adam Sutton
“He’s awesome. But, I only see him once a week at best.”
“He’s so compassionate, and kind when he is in class.”
“I only wish I had whole classes like Jamal except for his attendance.”
“The amount he is able to participate and contribute given the amount of time he misses is super human.”
“Jamal you have got to go to school,” his mom says with all the might she can muster.
“I’m not coming to school.”
“Jamal, I’ll be fine. Just go to school. Listen to all your teachers! You can do well if you go,” she says with something like enthusiasm.
“Mom, who’s going to take care of you. You can’t get to the bathroom. You can’t feed yourself without me. You can hardly get out of bed. I’m not coming to school.”
“You’ve got to be the first in our family to graduate from high school. Do that for me!”
“I’ll do that for you, but not this year,” Jamal states bluntly.
“C’mon, I gotta see my baby in that gown,” his mom says with a tear coming to her eye.
“Mom,” he pauses, “it’s January. In July, they said you had 6 months. I barely got you here today. I promise. I’ll graduate, but it’s not happening this year,” he says as tears stream down his mom’s face.
“Can we get Jamal on home & hospital, or some sort of special exemption?” someone asks.
“Jamal is not ill. He does not qualify,” came the swift response.