I couldn\u2019t help noticing something on the dashboard of the cab I was riding in this broiling afternoon in late June: a big snapshot of a college grad, with mortarboard and gown, holding a diploma, smiling proudly, maybe the driver\u2019s son. I couldn\u2019t actually see my driver through the grimy Plexiglas partition so I leaned forward, pointing at the picture.<\/p>\n
\u201cCongratulations,\u201d I said. \u201cYour son?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he answered, \u201cthat\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt kind of a lump in my throat. But he didn\u2019t seem embarrassed or sad, so why should I? I was able to get a better look at him: middle-aged, Middle Eastern.<\/p>\n
The photo was a message: I\u2019m not just some dumb taxicab driver. I went to school. I am accomplished.<\/em> It was right below his hack license photo so more observant riders than I would make the connection without asking. The photo was also a reminder, I imagine, to the driver himself: You are somebody. You have an education. You came to this country willing to do anything to better the life of your family.<\/p>\n The end of graduation season is here. All spring I\u2019ve seen graduates strolling proudly around the city in their caps and gowns, trailed by excited parents and admiring younger siblings. One of the great things about June is its celebration of education and the recognition of its paramount importance in our lives.<\/p>\n An education is one of the great honors in life and I sometimes forget how unbelievably grateful I should be for mine. I should be down on my knees thanking God for the opportunities it has given me. My education\u2014and my teachers\u2014are as much responsible for what I have achieved in life as I am.<\/p>\n If you can\u2019t look back over your life and see at least a couple of teachers who made all the difference in how you see the world and yourself, I would be very surprised. I remember<\/em> my teachers. That\u2019s how I remember what I learned. And those days when I crossed a stage, received my diploma and flipped my tassel are moments in time that defined me.<\/p>\n There is nothing as valuable as an education, nothing more deserving of respect. That\u2019s what my cabbie was saying. That\u2019s what I needed to remind myself of. That\u2019s what June is all about. As I paid the fare he turned around.<\/p>\n \u201cWant to see my sons?\u201d<\/p>\n He flipped open the glove compartment. Taped to the inside were snapshots of four young men, all in caps and gowns, all smiling with a familiar pride, holding diplomas.<\/p>\n I shook the driver\u2019s hand and said, \u201cThank you. It was an honor to ride in your cab.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I couldn\u2019t help noticing something on the dashboard of the cab I was riding in this broiling afternoon in late June: a big snapshot of a college grad, with mortarboard and gown, holding a diploma, smiling proudly, maybe the driver\u2019s son. I couldn\u2019t actually see my driver through the grimy Plexiglas partition so I leaned […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":30,"featured_media":27365,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"ep_exclude_from_search":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[185],"tags":[55],"ppma_author":[481],"class_list":["post-17351","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-stories-of-faith-and-hope","tag-inspiration"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n