July 2, 2006

It was a graduation. It was June. The ceiling fans spun overhead and the

microphone squeaked when a young woman began to speak.

"Before I came here," she said, "I was a student. ..."

She paused. The crowd listened patiently, some fanning themselves

against the heat.

"I was a student addicted to cocaine and marijuana. And I was an

alcoholic. ..."

Many nodded.

"My attendance decreased. I had no self-esteem. ... I was just a lost

soul. ..."

More nods. A yell of encouragement.

"Today, I have the tools to lead a successful, productive, sober life.

..."

Cheers.

"I have a 4.0 grade-point average, I have perfect attendance, and my

self-esteem has skyrocketed. ..."

The crowd roared. Some jumped to their feet. The young woman smiled

proudly.

It was a graduation. It was June. But this was not high school or

college. This was an afternoon last week at the Detroit Rescue Mission

Ministries, a shelter, the school of hard knocks. The graduates had

lasted 90 days in a treatment program, or five to nine months in

treatment and vocational training, or two years of transitional housing

with hopes of a place of their own.

All, at one point, had been homeless.

Small steps, large change

One after another they came forward, dressed nicely or dressed as nicely

as they could. Although there was no formal diploma, you would never

have missed it. Each of the graduates, some young, some old, some old

before their time, took the microphone and said his or her name proudly.

Some added "praise Jesus" or "praise be to God." They shook hands with a

few dignitaries.

There was no pomp and circumstance. But there was a choir and an organ

player. There were no scholarships awarded. But there were trays of

food, which no one took for granted. And while no valedictorian was

chosen based on grade-point average, several people did tell their

stories.

One man pointed to an open door that led outside and remembered a time

when "I stayed on the third floor" of an abandoned building "right out

there" across the street.

"That was my winter house, and my summer home," he said.

Today, he has a real place.

And a job as a chef.

Such a small distance.

And all the distance in the world.

Finding those who were lost

Although this time of year we celebrate our young people's achievements

- graduation parties, special trips - we should remember that for many,

education is a day-by-day challenge, and getting straight is as big a

deal as getting good grades.

The Detroit Rescue Mission Ministries - just one of many wonderful

organizations dedicated to helping our homeless get back on track -

provides 87,000 nights of shelter every year for people with no place to

go.

Think about that figure. Eighty-seven thousand. That's nearly 240 people

a night who have to sleep in a bed that is not their own, being handed

blankets, pillows, a bar of soap, a warm meal. And that's just one

organization.

Perhaps you say, "Why don't they get a job?"

Have you checked our economy lately?

Besides, before you can work, you need skills, before you get skills,

you need a basic education, and before you can do any of that, you have

to be free of drugs, alcohol or other dependencies that can cripple you.

It's easy, too easy, to see our homeless as bad people who are lost.

It's harder to see them as good people who have lost their way.

But to sit in the audience of last week's graduation is to know the

latter is the better approach. It's true, not many of the folks stepping

through the aisles of chairs knew much about calculus. And none had

written a dissertation.

But they survived things that have killed others, and they made a choice

to improve, to find work, to earn a room of their own.

And I don't think I've seen a more moving graduation in my life.

Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-223-4581 or malbom@freepress.com.