Millions of families are torn up by alcohol.
Shani Gray grew up a rough area of Miami. Many of her friends turned to gangs and drugs, but her parents encouraged her to do well in school. For Shani, it's ironic that while her dad was encouraging her to stay on track and resist the temptations around her, he was sinking further into those same temptations.
"He's like the pink flamingos," Shani says. "They start out as white birds, but the stuff they eat turns them pink. Their outside changes because of what's going on inside. That's what happened to my dad. He tried hard to resist all that stuff, but he was in the middle of it. It got to him."
On the day of her graduation, in which she was the top student, she looked out across the audience to see her dad. But he wasn't there. He was off drunk somewhere.
Soon after he abandoned his family. The hardest part of his leaving is the message it gave to Shani. "I looked up to him," she says. "He worked so hard for us and I loved him so much. But he made a choice that said, 'My lifestyle is more important to me than you are.' He was my motivation to keep at it when I wanted to give up on college. Then he gave up on us."
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XTRA ORDINARY PEOPLE: Shani Gray
Where's God When Your Dreams Fall Apart?
By Carla Barnhill
Shani Gray had planned for this moment for a long time.
As she sat on the stage at her high-school graduation, waiting to give her valedictory speech, she felt that all the sacrifices she'd made to excel had been worthwhile.
Even the turmoil of the last few months -- her alcoholic father had left home, and she was fighting a losing battle for scholarship money -- seemed far away as Shani's fellow graduates settled into their seats.
The principal announced Shani's name. As she stepped up to the podium to deliver her speech, Shani looked into the audience for the man who'd promised he'd be there.
But her father was nowhere in sight.
The moment is still fresh in Shani's mind as she sits in the dorm lounge at Taylor University-Fort Wayne, where she is finishing her freshman year.
Sure, she was angry at her dad, and angry that she'd been passed over for some large scholarships. But she was also angry at God.
"I felt like nothing was going the way I'd planned it," she says. "I thought I would always be rewarded for the things I did. But there I was. My dad had left our family. It was looking like I wouldn't be able to afford college. And I felt cheated."
It was, she says now, a humbling experience.
Shani Gray is not a person who needs much humbling. Even though everyone at Taylor -- from the lady in the mailroom to the vice-president of the college -- knows her by name, she doesn't recognize just how special she is.
How special? Just ask the professor who gave her an A in a tough, upper-level theology class. Or her high-school basketball coach who looked to her as the moral center of his team. Or her 6th-grade Sunday school teacher who asked Shani to help teach the class, since she knew the Bible so well.
Or ask just about anyone in Shani's neighborhood back in Miami. They'll tell you it takes someone very special to make it out of a place where many high-school students never even dream of college.
"In my neighborhood, you'd see kids on bikes, kids playing basketball, decent houses," says Shani. "But if you knew where to look, you'd find the drug dealers and gang members. It wasn't as dangerous as some parts of town, but at night, you'd definitely want to be behind your locked door and security system."
That atmosphere carried over to Shani's school, Carol City High. There, the violence of the streets made itself known in battles over dates and sports teams. Shani remembers a day when someone from a rival school's marching band showed up with a gun at Shani's band practice, wanting to shoot the trumpet players for winning a competition.
Violence was part of Shani's everyday life. So was the pressure to fit in at school. And fitting in meant dissing academics.
"There was always pressure to be average," says Shani. "Most kids felt like there was no point in working hard for grades, because teachers, parents, and society told them they weren't going anywhere. They'd see drug dealers making more money than any college professor could make. Most parents couldn't afford college, so unless you were a great athlete, you didn't have much chance of an education beyond high school. They figured, why bother?"
But Shani believed God had given her brains for a reason. She knew God could use her in the world and that a college education would prepare her for a whatever lay ahead. She also knew the only way she could afford college was through academic scholarships. So she determined she would do whatever it took to be the best in her class.
"I was raised by a whole bunch of people," she says. "My mom and dad, aunts and uncles, neighbors and friends from church. They all made sure I stayed out of trouble. They told me I could excel if I worked at it.
"I remember my dad telling me about his brother, who was very smart. His brother let his talents go to his head and thought he was too good to work for anything. So he ended up on the streets. Dad told me, 'The only way to get anywhere in life is to keep working hard for what you want, no matter what other people tell you.'"
A FAITH OF HER OWN
Shani's extended family provided her with something else that helped her stand apart from the crowd: a strong faith in God.
"I became a Christian when I was 8. But my faith was really just my mom's faith. I believed what she believed. It wasn't until I heard a former gang member talk about how God had changed his life that I thought about my faith. This guy had such a hard life, yet he was full of love for God. My life wasn't perfect either. But even though my dad was an alcoholic, he was there and I knew he and my mom loved me. We always had food on the table, and clothes to wear. Compared to most of my friends, I had it pretty good. What reason did I have for not living 100 percent for Christ? None. That's when my faith became my own."
For Shani, faith means standing for what she believes, no matter what the people around her think.
"Back in Miami, there was constant pressure to do drugs, drink, and have sex. But I believe my actions speak for my faith as much as, if not more than, my words. I mean, to the people in my school, I was Jesus. They were always watching me to see what being a Christian meant. Plus, I had things I wanted to accomplish, and that stuff just gets in the way, so I stayed away from it."
But staying away from the "stuff" didn't mean staying away from non-Christians. "If you don't know any non-Christians," notes Shani, "how can you lead them to Christ?"
"I really tried to be approachable to my non-Christian friends. I didn't judge them, but I was clear about my beliefs. I had a good friend who was struggling with her sexuality. I let her know I didn't agree with the choices she was making, but also that I was there for her if she needed to talk. She did, and I was able to tell her about God and the love he has for her. It's taken awhile, but she's stepped back from the life she was living and is trying to figure out what kind of person God wants her to be."
She continued to excel in the classroom, and by the middle of her senior year, it looked as though her plan was right on course. She had been accepted at Taylor University-Fort Wayne to study criminal justice, she would graduate as class valedictorian, and she would leave Miami knowing she had a bright future.
Then her dad, the man who promised her that her hard work would pay off, moved out.
PINK FLAMINGOS
Shani has only talked to her father a few times in the year since he left. He's been in rehabilitation for drug and alcohol use.
For Shani, it's ironic that while her dad was encouraging her to stay on track and resist the temptations around her, he was sinking further into those same temptations.
"He's like the pink flamingos," Shani says. "They start out as white birds, but the stuff they eat turns them pink. Their outside changes because of what's going on inside. That's what happened to my dad. He tried hard to resist all that stuff, but he was in the middle of it. It got to him."
But the hardest part of his leaving is the message it gave to Shani. "I looked up to him," she says. "He worked so hard for us and I loved him so much. But he made a choice that said, 'My lifestyle is more important to me than you are.' He was my motivation to keep at it when I wanted to give up on college. Then he gave up on us."
THE LAST STRAW (ALMOST)
But graduation was right around the corner and Shani didn't have time to think about her pain. Instead, she focused on her schoolwork and her future in Fort Wayne. Then came another blow.
With Shani at the top of her class, she was certain she'd be rewarded with enough scholarship money for college. But to her surprise and great disappointment, the big awards went to other students. As a result, Shani faced graduation with one scholarship -- worth only $500.
Her college plans were crumbling fast.
Nothing had turned out the way Shani had intended. No dad, no money, no future. As the summer wore on, Shani buried her pain in her frantic schedule. She worked extra shifts at her job, trying to earn as much money as she could in a final effort to get to Taylor. Shani and her mother continued to pray that it would all work out, somehow.
Slowly, the money she needed, and more, came trickling in from small private scholarships, as well as from people who knew the Grays needed help. Shani would make it to Taylor after all.
A PLAN TO TRUST
As she walks toward Taylor's gym to shoot baskets, Shani now knows God had some unexpected surprises in store for her last spring.
"Last June," she says, "I was as angry at God as I've ever been. But I was mad because it looked like my life wasn't going in the direction I had planned. I'd been saying that I trusted God, but I wanted things to go my way, not his. And after all that, God put me right where I'd wanted to be all along. My dad's still gone, but I'm learning to deal with the hurt he caused us. I'm finally letting go of the anger I'd felt since last spring. And I'm a stronger person because of what I've been through. I know now that good things don't just fall in your lap because you follow the rules. God's been with me the whole time, blessing me in ways I never would have thought. Now, I am trusting God with my future and I know it will be alright."
And that's a plan she can trust for the rest of her life.
Copyright (c) 1996 Christianity Today, Inc./CAMPUS LIFE Magazine
May/June 1996, Vol. 54, No. 10, Page 30
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