In this picture, I wish my dad had his diploma in his hands. Because that’s what I remember most of that day—the diploma he held, often close to the level of my eyes. My dad had worked hard for that diploma. And it was important, I could tell. My dad wore a graduation gown, the speeches were long, and people were snapping pictures. That’s the day I made up my mind. When I grew up, I’d try my best to earn a college diploma.
