Christopher Ramos sat in a classroom at South Philadelphia High School, his head bent over a paperback of “Death of a Salesman.” Reading aloud, he picked his way through the part of Bernard, Biff Loman’s classmate.
“Listen, Biff, I hear miss — Mr. Burham say that he — that if you don’t start studying math, he’s gonna flunk you and you won’t graduated. I hear him,” Ramos read.
“You better study with him, Biff. Go ahead now,” said another student, playing out the role of Willy Loman.
“I hear him,” Ramos read.
Until recently, spending his afternoons studying classic American drama in a mostly vacant high school was not what the 42-year-old Ramos expected to be doing at this point in his life.
Since moving to Philadelphia from Mexico as a teenager, he’d spent 25 years working in construction and at restaurants, picking up English along the way, getting married, and raising his three kids.
But then friends told him about the school district’s Educational Options Program, which lets adults who dropped out years earlier take standard high school classes — literature, history, algebra, the whole gamut — and eventually graduate. Not by passing GED tests, but with a genuine diploma.
“I want to finish the high school because I want to get my diploma so I could get a better job, I guess, and do better things in my life,” Ramos said in an interview before class. He wants to be a “better person,” he said. “Better father.”
Ramos started attending classes this fall and expects to earn enough credits to finish next year. His family teases him, saying he’s “a little bit old” to go to school, he said. But they’re also excited for him as he ventures back through the world of formal education.
“For me it’s very … different. Just different. It’s nothing like I did it before,” he said. “But I like it. I like it, and it’s very good.”
Leaving school when mom got sick
Philadelphia is unusual in offering a full-fledged, free high school program for adults, said Cameo John, the program’s assistant director. Students must be over 18 and already have at least 8 high school credits when they register.
“We’re very rare and unique in that way, picking up from exactly where they left off, where they’re not starting from scratch,” she said. “This is an investment the school district is putting in. There’s way too many Philadelphians that don’t have a high school diploma, and we want to make sure that they know we exist and can reconnect and earn their diploma.”
Ramos is one of the oldest in his classroom, but the roughly 350 students taking courses at the program’s three locations range in age up to their 60s and older.
Like him, some had their education interrupted by immigration to the U.S. Many others quit school because a parent got sick and they needed to stay home to care for them.
Dorothy Ferguson recalled that, as a teenager, she liked school and got good grades at South Philly High, as well as volunteering at a hospital and her church. But when she was in 10th grade, things fell apart.
“My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. My sister had cervical cancer. There wasn’t nobody home to take care of them, so I stayed home to take care of my mom, my sister and my nieces and nephews,” the 41-year-old Ferguson said. Dropping out “was hard. It was sad, because I was missing school at the same time, my friends there.”
Her father couldn’t provide for everyone, so she started working in home care, helping senior citizens. At her parents’ urging she at one point signed up for the adult diploma program, but then her dad got sick as well and she didn’t follow through, she said.
The idea of going back to school never went away, but it faded further after her mom got COVID and both of her parents died within a week of each other in April 2021.
“After my mom passed, I said, it’s too late now,” she recalled.
“You can’t do nothing in life without a diploma”
Like Ferguson, Nasir McCoy remembers liking high school, back when he lived in North Carolina. And like her, he quit in 10th grade because of his mother’s ill health.
“I really didn’t want to, but my mom was really getting sick, and I couldn’t focus on school when I knew she was home sick and everything,” he said. “So I just decided to drop out to make sure she was OK.”
He was out of school for four years. When his mother died, he and his sister moved back to Philadelphia, where they’d lived previously and have family. Eventually, the soft-spoken 23-year-old started thinking about going back to school.
“I didn’t sign right up, because I was still depressed about my mom,” he said. “But once I heard about the program… And I know my mom wanted me to get my high school diploma. That’s something she was adamant about.”
For Ferguson, the impetus to give education one more chance came from her daughter, who is 16 and attends Prep Charter High.
“She’s like, ‘Mom, if you don’t have your high school diploma, why should I have to get mine?’ ” she recalled. “And I said, no, I’m going to get mine, because you got to be better. You can’t do nothing in life without a high school diploma. You need the diploma to go further, and further yourself.”
During an interview in South Philly High’s library before class, she wore a sweatshirt with pictures of her daughter and late mother, over the words “I DID IT FOR Y’ALL.”
The same reason powerfully motivates Rebeca Houth, who is 35 and has five kids at home, including a restless 18-year-old son.
“The only way that I can actually get him to focus on being in school is if I show him that I can go back,” she said. “My goal is to graduate to show my kids that if I can, they can do the same thing.”
She said she’s also honoring the wishes of her late mother. After her mom’s death when Houth was 12, she stopped caring about school and didn’t attend regularly, instead spending her days hanging out at stores and getting lunch with friends, she said. She finally dropped out when she got pregnant with her son.
During the years of struggle that followed, she began to understand that without a diploma, “you really don’t have nothing.”
“That’s when I started realizing I have to change something,” she said, “because I can’t just raise my kids without knowledge, education, nothing.”
More than one in 10 adults in Philadelphia, or about 144,000 people, have less than a high school education, according to census data. Students’ personal struggles pull too many of them out of school, said John, the EOP assistant director, but also eventually drive some to return.
“There’s a level of determination for students who feel like, ‘You know what? I was looked over. I had to prioritize other things early on in life, and now I can take this for myself,’ ” she said. “I hear that a lot. ‘I’m doing this for me. I’m doing it for a family member, because I lost some loved ones, and they’re not here to see me make it happen. I’m finally being able to do that.’ ”
Desperate to get that diploma
EOP’s enrollment dropped during the pandemic and hasn’t fully recovered, John said. She’s been trying to get the word out about the program recently, with some success. When WHYY ran a short article in August about the upcoming registration period, the website’s reader comment form was flooded with dozens of inquiries.
“I am 29 years old looking forward into getting my high school diploma please I’m in desperate needs,” one person wrote.
“I’ve obtained a GED in 1991, but would rather have a high school diploma. I’m 60, am I eligible?” another asked.
Many of the commenters said they were desperate to graduate.
“I am interested in the program as soon as possible.”
“I’m 19 years old and I would like to get my high school diploma. Thank you so much! Please contact me asap!”
“I would like to get my high school diploma ASAP I’m 38 years old and I have 2 daughters and it’s been past my time to get it so I’m am now asking for help.”
(Registration for the next term runs Dec. 1-9. For information on the program and how to apply, visit the EOP website, read a program flyer, or call 215-400-6684.)
During the September registration period, one busy day saw 150 people sign up, John said. A total of 600 registered, 400 of whom were actually ready to start. Some of the others didn’t have the required 8 high school credits or were otherwise ineligible; some couldn’t manage the schedule of three-hour afternoon classes, Monday through Thursday.
“We had some students who said, we have other commitments at this time, whether it’s family issues or just figuring out childcare and so forth, or employment opportunities came up,” John said. “Some of those students got all those things sorted out, so they’ll be ready for the next cycle.”
It can take applicants a while to get copies of their old high school transcripts, and some then find they don’t have the required credits, she said. They may still be able to attend the district’s One Bright Ray Community High School, which has different eligibility rules, or one of its other programs for students who for various reasons can’t attend regular high school.
They can also pursue a GED or high school-equivalency certificate, either through a city-run or a private program.
Even for those who are eligible for EOP, actually enrolling and sticking with it can be a journey. Janga Gurung, who immigrated from Nepal as a teen, said he previously dropped out of EOP when he was 19; with encouragement from his pastor, he re-registered after a four-year break. Houth said she briefly attended a different program in Center City a couple years ago, but had to quit when it moved to a new location.
“I’ve been trying to come back a couple years already, but I’ve been hesitating,” she said. “Last year was the year that I decided, like, OK, it’s time to stop procrastinating and just come in.”
Scary and surreal at first, but welcoming
Starting classes after years away can be daunting. Before she enrolled this fall, 20-year-old Alexandrine Fraschilla’s most recent educational experience had been online courses during the pandemic, followed by a couple years of not doing much.
“I was hermitting. I wasn’t really going out. I had like, one person outside of my family I was talking to,” she said. After that long hiatus, entering an in-person classroom “was weird, a little nerve-wracking the first day.”
“It was scary,” McCoy said.
“It was nervous, because it was like coming around different people that you don’t know,” Ferguson said.
“It can be, not challenging per se, but surreal, like, I’m back in this place again? I’m also with students that may be my children’s age,” John said.
But the students said they felt welcomed and quickly adapted to the rhythm of class time, homework, and getting to know their instructors and each other.
Teachers offer one-on-one help when needed, throw little parties, and “are always giving us stuff,” Ferguson said. As part of a “student of the week” program, those who improve in specific areas receive Starbucks gift cards or baskets of useful gifts.
Counselors are available, and there’s a program to help students who are pregnant or parents. For students facing hardship, South Philly High has a community closet with food, clothing, and hygiene products.
“We all grew together as a family,” Ferguson said. “We all come in, we got this support team. Everybody here backs you up and push you to work to get that diploma.”
She’s become something of an evangelist for EOP: she’s gotten her boyfriend, her nephew, and one other person to sign up for it, she said.
Fraschilla is taking American history on Mondays and Tuesdays, and Algebra 2 on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Three hours is a long time to sit in a classroom, but there’s a break in the middle, and the classwork itself “isn’t too bad,” she said.
“Pretty quickly, it got me into a sense of routine and normalcy that I haven’t had in years,” she said. “It was really helpful … Just exposing myself to talking with people again, and generally getting myself out of the house regularly.”
“Everybody wants to be here”
Houth likewise said she’s glad to have a reason to get out of the house. “Three hours out of my day is better than being home for 24 hours,” she said. She’s actually excited to come to school, which is a major change from when she was a teen, she said.
At the same time, the experience has sharpened her regret at having dropped out young, when she had learned little about academic subjects and the world generally.
“Now that you’re an adult, you’re coming back into school, and you don’t know too much, it’s kind of embarrassing to ask for help,” she said. “But it’s something that you have to do, and something that I will have to eventually push through, to get through this year.”
It’s a very different experience from attending regular high school, students said.
“The teachers, they respect you more. They don’t yell at you, curse at you, or, like, tell you to sit down. We’re all adults, so you come in, you sit down, you just learn. It’s just a whole different thing,” Houth said. “And everybody wants to be here.”
Teacher Kate Gillen said she loves the EOP students’ “passion and commitment to education.”
“They want that diploma. They work so hard,” said Gillen, who was substituting in Ramos’ English class but usually teaches 9th graders. “I love learning and teaching, so to have that passion returned to me, and have these great conversations, means so much — ’cause I’m kind of lacking that during day school with a bunch of 14-year-olds.”
As they move through their first trimester in EOP, students start to bloom, John said.
“We have some students who are doing experiments for the first time. They’re learning math for the first time. They’re getting the one-on-one support for the first time,” she said. “It’s beautiful to watch and to see students change from being a little bit fearful, hesitant, to being really confident and excited. That’s what we really want to see happen.”
Aiming for a “good job,” or the unknown
Some students need just a few credits to fulfill their graduation requirement, and will finish after a single three-month trimester. Others spend two years or more taking classes until they reach the full 21 ½ or 23 ½ credits, depending on what the requirements were when they were first in high school.
The South Philly High program holds graduation ceremonies twice a year, in February and June, and offers a senior dinner and prom for those who want the full experience. Beyond that, students’ plans vary widely.
Some, especially the younger ones, want to continue onto Community College of Philadelphia or another school right away, while others have jobs or projects in mind. Some aren’t sure what they’ll do next.
Fraschilla expects to graduate in 2026 and head to CCP or arts school, so she can work in character and concept design, possibly for animation. Gurung will finish in December and is thinking about attending bible college and perhaps working in construction. After McCoy gets his final credits next June, he wants to go to college, study engineering and software development, and eventually start a tech company to develop a new gaming system. “I’m going to be going to school for a while,” he said.
“When I get the diploma, I’d rather be a boss, so I can open up a center for autistic children,” said Ferguson, who also plans to finish in June. “I’ve been seeing autistic children getting picked on and teased by other kids. So I’d rather have a center just for them to be able to come to and they can mingle with other children. They’d be, like, safe and better.”
Houth would like to get a “good job” after she earns her diploma next year, but she says she mostly returned to school to improve herself — “to learn what I have already lost, and to get more knowledge of how everything is going with life.”
“To be honest, right now, I don’t know what I would do after I graduate,” she said. “But hopefully it’s something better than what I’ve been going through lately.”
Past graduates have gotten jobs or promotions, gone to college, attended trade schools, and enlisted in the military, EOP administrators say. Some have been able to get off public assistance, regain custody of their children, complete recovery programs, and find housing after periods of instability.
Ramos plans to graduate next June. He wants to get a better job, maybe as an electrician or doing soldering, a skill used in electronics manufacturing. He wants to be able to do more to help his kids with their homework, and intends to attend college himself.
“Everybody should come to this program. Like I say, I think I was too old for this program, but no, everybody should come,” he said. “You’re never [too] old enough to come to this program.”
