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Mr. Dawson stepped forward. “Renee… would you come down here?”

People helped me to my feet, guiding me gently down to the field.

Kayla wrapped her arms around me.

The principal handed me a diploma.

“On behalf of the Class of 2024,” he said softly, “we present Olivia’s diploma. She earned it.”

I broke down, sobbing.

For illustrative purposes only
The students gathered around me, their clown noses bobbing as they pulled me into the warmest, strangest group hug I had ever known.

As they stepped back, each student removed their wig or hat—and turned it inside out.

I stared, blinking through tears.

Each one had a word written boldly inside:

Brave.
Kind.
Loud.
Funny.
Safe.
Seen.
Worthy.
Loved.