I ignored a friend who warned me against building up my hopes of putting closure to a phase of my life which had haunted me for several decades — the failure to complete my college education at the University of Pennsylvania.
I decided to take a chance on hope and called Penn. I spoke to an assistant dean who researched my transcripts and kept telling me to call back. She kept postponing our conversation, which was discouraging. But I discovered a way to move forward.
I let my frustration go.
I learned how to do that at the University of Skid Row. I learned that sometimes you have to let go in order to get a different grip on the situation.
Then I found my new grip. I called Penn's director of collections. If I had any chance of returning to Penn, it would have to begin with the collections office. They would talk to me because I still owed them five figures in tuition and delinquent loans.
I had little credibility with that record, but there was one thing was in my favor — I knew the director of collections. She was at Penn when I was a student. And though I had an erratic performance of meeting obligations, I had never lied to her back then.
I counted on her remembering that fact.
I was nervous when she picked up the line.
"Jo, this is Walter Melton, do you remember me?" I began.
"How could I ever forget you, Walter!!" she responded.
Jo knew of my self-indulgent history in college. I decided, in an instant, to tell her the total truth about the years that followed. I told her that sometime after leaving Penn I had become a crack addict and remained one for more than 20 years.
The director was silent for a moment. Then she told me that before any transcripts could be sent anywhere, I had to make six consecutive payments without fail. I told her I would start my payments in a few months, as I needed to plan. I wanted to ensure that once the payments started they wouldn't stop until they were done. I reminded her, again, that I had never lied to her.
"Walter, you are correct," she said. "You have never lied to me."
That was all I needed to hear, and I told her I would be in touch with her when I was ready to begin my payments.
As I inched closer to meeting my court-ordered obligations — and getting a misbegotten felony charge expunged from my record, and clearing up old tax obligations — I decided it was time to contact Penn again. I told the director of collections that I was ready to begin my payments. She told me she I could send the payments directly to her instead at the university instead of the collection firm handling my account. That was perfect, because I wanted her to see every month that I was keeping my word — that I was living the truth.
I wrote a check and rode my bike to the post office in Skid Row. Mailing that check, I knew I had begun another process.
Life is a series of them.
I'm glad to be alive.
More next week.
Walter Melton is a writer for the L.A. Garment & Citizen.
Visit Walter Melton's blog at www.scribeskidrow.blogspot.com.
Photo by LA Beez
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