How My Sister Unwillingly Became A Truant

MEDIA: GIPHY (Ari Bennett)

When my sister turned 15, it seemed much of her childhood innocence was disrupted by decisions our parents made that weren’t in the best interest of her future. While most 15-year-olds were preparing to enter middle school, enjoying their youth, she was playing grown-up, attempting to combat the harmful decisions of our father. 

In 2003, in her 9th-grade year, my sister attended a private all-girl Catholic High school. It was a school she and I knew our parents couldn’t afford as the yearly tuition rate bit a hole into our father’s low-wage take-home pay, yet he was determined to keep her enrolled. 

For him, the school provided a great college-ready curriculum, and he felt a sense of pride knowing one of his daughters was a student. However, my sister and I felt his admiration for the school was based on a close friend who also had a daughter as a student on campus.

Yet, it appeared our father’s friend had a bit more financial stability to afford their daughter’s enrollment. From my understanding, my father’s friend and his wife both had income streams, yet our father, on the other hand, was the sole provider of our household as our mother was not working at the time. In reality, we regularly struggled to keep food in the house and our lights on; it was no surprise that we knew our father could not afford the tuition, but sometimes our parents mean well in the decisions they make for us— even if we don't experience a positive outcome. The problem at the time was that we knew there was no way he could make the tuition work, and when you can’t afford the tuition, you can’t attend school. 

As a low-income student enrolled, my sister faced many challenges. She often had to buy food for lunch, which she could not afford. Sometimes, she survived from vending machine snacks throughout the school day. She was continually reminded how she never had enough to feel comfortable as a student even though the school prided itself on the idea that students “can focus on their studies instead of worrying about what others might think of them.” I will never forget the time she saved cold Mcdonald's fries from dinner just to have something to eat on campus. Or when her school ran a Niagara Chocolate fundraiser, and our father took my sister’s proceeds to pay a light bill. He had all the intentions to “put the money back,”  though he never did. Throughout her time as a student there, she frequently pushed back on our father's decision to keep her enrolled, recognizing how it affected the family’s finances and her mental well-being. 

During that time, the conversation about my sister’s experiences in school created a lot of turmoil in the household because our father simply didn’t want to hear that his decision may not have been the best for his daughter. He wasn’t receptive to her feelings nor understanding of what she was going through. Eventually, his decision to put her in this school would backfire, creating a long list of challenges that would disrupt her educational pursuits and life experiences in her twenties.

She was only able to complete her 9th-grade year. When the bills started to pile up in our household, and it was time for her to return as a Sophomore, my sister could not attend classes until her tuition bill was fulfilled. Our father never reached out for financial assistance or support from loved ones, nor did he allow her to enroll in a public high school.

For him, her going to a public school was “beneath his standards,” yet if she did go, she would not be the only child enrolled in a public institution as I was already attending a public school. Unfortunately, the process of paying her tuition bill took almost four years.

Our father’s rationale for his choices did not make sense to me. His decision to keep my sister in this school was based on ego and an he was trying to make her schooling work beyond his means. And he did not feel comfortable enough to ask for support, which led to our entire family's suffering. Unfortunately, our father did not perceive it that way nor recognize the magnitude of the harm he caused to our family.

Sadly, his decision to keep my sister tied to this school was forced on our mother, who wanted my sister enrolled in another institution but had little say in the matter because of the aggressive nature of our father, who did not want the decision to happen. I remember many arguments ensuing because of threats my father made about what would happen if my mother enrolled my sister somewhere else. I can still see the tears in my sister’s eyes, begging our father to make the right decision. 

Not only was my sister not allowed to attend any other school, but our father also informed her not to speak about the situation to anyone, including family. These rules also applied to my mother and me. It was one of the most uncomfortable experiences I endured in my childhood because I not only watched my sister being stripped of her education but seeing how that journey shot my sister into a deep depression. It was also one of the first instances where I saw my father as psychologically violent. There existed no safety in the decisions he made regarding my sister’s schooling.

Our father struggled to save the tuition needed to keep her in the only school he felt was right for her, and in the same breath, I also saw him not prioritize financing her education. From tax season, and small lottery wins, to back-to-school season, he kept the promise for years: “he was going to get her back in school” while she sat daily in a house being robbed of her future and gaslighted about her desire for education. It was a reality that no one, my sister, mother, nor I could piece together but something had to be off for our father to be so adamant about a decision that caused so much pain.

Throughout the time of my sister's school absence, no one questioned why it was taking her so long to return to school, nor were the authorities ever involved. Even though under New York State’s “compulsory education” laws, every child between the ages of 6 and 16 must attend full-time school. When family members asked her how school was going, she would stick to one-liners like “good’ hoping no one would ask her anything deep enough to reveal that she hadn’t seen the inside of a school wall in over a year.

In many instances, I felt that my parents failed my sister, and so did forced silence, and school officials who did not dig enough to help a child that essentially vanished from their school. As a result, for three consecutive years, she was robbed of her education and entered a world of depression and erasure.

To this day, I think of this experience as one of the biggest mistakes our parents made because it set back her growth tremendously. And it was definitely a big red flag that our father did not always have the best intentions, nor was he a person we could express how his actions affected our livelihood. 

When our father finally scrapped up the coins to get her back in school, it was 2006. My mother, then, returned to the school with my sister to submit her tuition payment, only to find out that it would cost more to keep her enrolled because of my sister's age. We couldn’t afford that. My sister who at the time was already 18 would be starting behind in her Sophomore year; she lost years of education and would be expected to graduate in her early twenties. Given, the unfavorable circumstances, she wouldn’t be able to proceed forward.

This whole situation could have been avoided if our father let go of the idea of keeping my sister tied to this school. It could have been avoided if our mother fought for what was right and if we weren’t fearful of speaking up. My sister deserved more and was robbed of her fundamental right.

I never understood the full scope of that conversation my mother had that day with school officials when she arrived to submit my sister’s tuition payment, or even school reps had asked: Why did it take so long for my sister to return? Was she receiving education elsewhere? I wondered if anybody truly cared about a poor Black girl who just wanted to be in school.

My sister unwillingly became an truant, and there was no valid reason for her being robbed of her education other than our father’s own cognitive dissonance.

My sister never returned to that school, or another high school to obtain her diploma. Instead, she would go on to obtain her Graduate Equivalency Degree (GED). In GED programs, they typically ask students, “what was the reason that led them to drop out of school?” No one believed my sister’s response when discussions arose about what led her to a GED program. Rightfully so, it’s an unbelievable experience that my sister endured, undoubtedly shaping her future relationship with education and our parents. It was a costly decision.

While eventually, my sister did find the courage to speak about her journey with close loved ones as time passed, she often questioned what her journey through education would be like if it wasn’t for her long “school break.” I️ didn’t know it then, but when I️ arrived in my 9th grade year, our father attempted to enroll me in the Catholic High school. My sister advocated for me telling our father, “don’t do to her what you did to me.” I️t is because of that that I️ was able to finish my education at a public high school.

Conversations with our parents about this situation today, continue to be an open wound. My mother has come to terms with the fact that this situation is one of the worst parenting decisions of her and our father. On the other hand, our father doesn’t like talking about it, or how the role he played delayed my sister’s educational journey.

Today, my sister is finishing her Bachelor of Science at the University of Cincinnati; she is still a lover of education and healing one day at a time through her childhood trauma.  

If you’re interested in more about this story, check out the episode “A Costly Decision”  on the Broke Black Bougie Podcast.