I Didn’t Get to Graduate Either
In May 1998, I should have been finishing my first year at an Ivy League college. Instead, I was in a state-funded halfway house in Minneapolis trying to recover from a heroin addiction.
Editor’s Note: This article is part of a series of commencement addresses commissioned by The Atlantic for students who will not be able to attend their graduations because of the pandemic. Find the collection here.
When I was 12, I bet my cousin $100 that I would graduate from an Ivy League school. I didn’t really care which one, but Georgetown—not an Ivy, but what did I know?—and Harvard were my top choices. We shook on it. At the time, I had no reason to think my goal was unattainable.
Some kids are on the fast track to the top. They get straight A’s. They are at the top of their classes and in the 99th percentile of every
