'I don't feel like I'm done'

By JENNIFER D. JORDAN
Journal Staff Writer
The Providence Sunday Journal
Sunday, May 22, 2005

Today, Rose Quigley graduates from college.

On time. Debt-free. With a 3.0 grade point average. And a clear plan.

But that's not all that makes Rose stand out.

It's the sheer fact of walking across a stage at the University of Rhode Island, in cap and gown, with her mother, Barbara, there to see her.

Barbara Quigley missed Rose's 2001 high school graduation. She was in prison on arson charges. Rose asked a judge to release her mother, even in handcuffs, for a few hours that day, so she could see her daughter receive her diploma.

But the request was denied.

"I've never been to a graduation at all," says Barbara, who dropped out of school in the seventh grade. "This will be my first."

Rose was 14 and her brother Billy was 13, when they became wards of the state, placed under the protection of the Rhode Island Department of Children Youth and Families.

They became foster kids. They stayed with family friends. But home was gone.

"In my 30 years of working with young people, I have seen many travel far. But I don't think I've seen anyone who has traveled farther than Rose, from what her life was expected to be, to what her life is becoming and what it promises to be," says Frank Forleo, Rose's college adviser.

"She is a person who will not be denied."

LIFE DENIED Rose much.

Barbara became addicted to drugs and alcohol when Rose was in elementary school. Rose's parents never married, and she had little contact with her biological father.

A few years later, Rose lost her mother again, this time to prison.

Somehow, through a combination of will and discipline - that Rose herself cannot explain -- she did not fall apart. Instead, she achieved.

An honors student at Mount Pleasant High School in Providence, Rose played softball and served in student government. She began working. By her junior year, Rose was working 40 hours a week, spread out over three part-time jobs.

She also had a dream. She would attend college.

"She could never accept the circumstances that were handed to her," says Forleo. He is assistant director for Talent Development, a program that helps disadvantaged students attend URI. "This is a woman who, at a young age, was called to create her own life."

ROSE, 21, sees things differently.

Rose says she would never have made it without teachers who believed in her, without mentors like Forleo and without a state scholarship fund for foster children.

"If I was never given a helping hand, I probably never would have finished high school," she says. "I knew there were people rooting for me."

For the past week, Rose says, she has asked herself what she is going to do without Forleo.

"Frank was the person I had always in the back of my head. 'Oh, if I became pregnant, he'd be so disappointed. Oh, if I failed, he'd be so disappointed.'

"He was my conscience."

BARBARA QUIGLEY will be in the crowd today, craning her neck for a glimpse of her daughter.

Barbara was released from the Adult Correctional Institutions two years ago and has worked to rebuild her relationships with her children. With Barbara will be her former boyfriend, Chris Gardner, who helped rear Rose and Billy. They call him dad. Rose's longtime boyfriend Kelvin Brito and his family will also be there to cheer for Rose.

Rose's best friend, Lana Velilla is coming, bringing her 21³2-year-old son, Kyle.

Lana was Rose's first college roommate, but she dropped out when she became pregnant in her freshman year.

"Rose inspired me to go back to school," Lana says. "I'm actually going to graduate because of her."

Lana hopes to receive her bachelor's degreein human development and family studies from URI next May -- the same degree Rose is receiving today.

One day, they hope to open a resource center for teens in Providence. It will offer mentoring and leadership programs. Counseling. Answers for young people in the foster care system.

BUT NOW ROSE is nervous.

She's not used to her family and friends gathering in her honor, and she doesn't know what to expect.

"I'm scared of how it's going to be, with my mom there," Rose says. "How we're going to react. We're not the lovey-dovey type."

She is also tired.

"Everyone says when you graduate, it's the beginning of your life. But it's not. It's just a continuation," Rose says. "I don't feel like I'm done." She considers a moment. "I don't do closure. I just move on to the next thing."

This summer, Rose will take a leave of absence from her full-time job running a group home for developmentally disabled adults in Woonsocket. She has been hired as a resident assistant for URI's summer Talent Development program. The students become acclimated to campus life by taking a few courses and living in dormitories.

For the first time since junior high, Rose will have weekends off.

"I don't know what I'll do with myself," she says with a laugh.

A FEW WEEKS AGO, the envelope Rose had been waiting for arrived. Rose jumped up and down in Frank Forleo's office after she read the letter.

It said that Rose was accepted to the master's in social work program at Rhode Island College. She also received a scholarship that covers most of her tuition and fees. But she still plans to work full-time. She needs the money.

On one subject, Rose relaxes, her brown eyes glowing.

In two weeks, Rose's family and friends will hold a big cookout to celebrate Rose's success. Rose's boyfriend reserved space at Goddard State Park.

"I've been to so many parties with Kelvin's family," Rose says. "I can't wait to have a big party like that, for me."

Rose is organizing a softball game that she hopes will be the heart of the celebration. It will take the attention off her for a while, she says.

On that day, even Rose promises to put her worries aside.

"I just want everyone to forget about everything," she says, "and just have fun."

Jennifer D. Jordan can be reached at jjordan@projo.com.