Nobody at Florence Crittenton High School's graduation ceremony flinched at the sounds of babies crying, giggling and shouting.
Those interruptions were expected — even celebrated.
For many of the students onstage, the squirming children behind the commotion were their sources of motivation, their reasons to push forward and finish high school in the first place.
"This is an end of an era," said 18-year-old Jenny Alvarez to the crowd as her son, Osiel, watched quietly with her family. "We are saying goodbye to people we once knew, opening our eyes to something new. It can be hard, when we think about all the things we went through."
A school dedicated to students who are pregnant or parents
Florence Crittenton High — FloCrit to those who love it — is a special place within Denver Public Schools. It's program meant specifically for students who are pregnant or who have kids.
Graduations at FloCrit represent more than the average end-of-year ceremony. Diplomas, caps and gowns all point to huge transformations that have taken place within their students.
The walk across the stage is less about leaving childhood behind and more a recognition that these girls are ready to take control of not only their futures, but also the futures of the babies who depend on them.
"Today's a day to remember," Alvarez said from the podium. "A day to be proud of."
Florence Crittenton Services is over a century old, but they haven't always held graduations.
The organization that became FloCrit Services was founded in 1893.
From the start, it was a place to shelter "vulnerable young women" and unwed mothers.
In 1984, the nonprofit partnered with Denver Public Schools to create an education program to address the reality that at least 50 percent of pregnant teens never get a high school degree.
Today, FloCrit High School celebrates a 96 percent graduation rate.
MonaLisa Martinez was a student at FloCrit in the 1990s, back when girls only went to classes there during their pregnancies, then returned to their home schools to graduate. She would have preferred to finish her studies with the other mothers in her class, like Alvarez did.
"I would've loved that, for the simple fact that they shared the journey with me and I was able to celebrate with them in the end," she told Denverite. "They were a part of the village, and it takes a village. Your fellow students, they're your support."
The school expanded in 2012 with the help of city bond money. That upgrade allowed students to finally finish their school years under one roof.
Martinez now runs FloCrit's early childhood education program, watching over children and enabling their mothers to concentrate on their studies.
"It's really sweet, how my son has a connection with his teachers," Alvarez said. "It makes me feel safe. And they have a special spot in my heart, because that's my child and they have love for him. Then I go to class, I greet everybody and I just get started on my work and focus on what I need to get done for my future."
This time of year, as students prepare to leave FloCrit's embrace, Martinez said she always remembers exactly what it felt like to be in their shoes.
"It still feels the same. And I know what they're feeling and what's running through their minds and their hearts," she told us. "A lot of the emotion here is their journey's not over. They still have to keep it going in the world we live in."
But these students are ready for that next step. They have to be.
Like those of many of her classmates, Alvarez's pregnancy was unplanned. So was her monumental growth.
"I was an F student. I would ditch class a lot," she remembered. "I used to be a rebel in school. Sometimes, I look back at my memories and I'm like: I am a whole different person."
"I have heard it from my family members, that having this baby was a blessing to me," she added. "Because they saw me develop so differently, and pass all my classes with A's, and be more centered in life in general."
Her close friend and classmate, Julie Garcia, said she also felt pulled toward a new way of being after the arrival of her daughter, Juliett.
On the heels of seismic change, it was a necessity.
"Now that we have a responsibility, we have to be on this. Because we know we can't wait," she said. "We have to move on with life. We don't have time to slack anymore."
Desta Taye-Channell, Florence Crittenton Services' executive director, said she sees that recognition in all of her students.
"When they realize the responsibility of parenthood, they're very, very driven to be successful," she said. "I think any woman — especially those of color and those who have been really oppressed by poverty — it's a big deal when they realize regardless of situations they're smart, they're able and they have a future."
At the same time, mourning their own childhoods
Alvarez and Garcia said they're proud of the ways they've grown up, though they still mourn their childhoods' premature ends.
They've drifted away from their old friends, kids who no longer see the world the same way they do. Their relationships with their families have changed, too.
It's one reason FloCrit's administrators make sure to give seniors a field trip, this year to Elitch Gardens. Alvarez and Garcia said they deeply feel that need, to just be girls.
"It feels nice to do that, to go to the park and chill with our friends. And we look like little kids, but it makes us happy," Garcia said. "It's like we're healing each others' inner child."
'I wanted to give up, but then I remembered who was watching'
They've learned the skills they'll need to continue with their lives outside of school, to make time for self-care as they tend to their children and careers.
Garcia plans to become a phlebotomist. Alvarez will attend the Community College of Denver in the fall to pursue a business degree.
But they could put those future plans away for one sweet evening, graduation night, and celebrate how far they've come.
"I wanted to give up, but then I remembered who was watching," Garcia wrote on her graduation cap.
And Alvarez wrote on Osiel's little mortarboard, topping his ceremonial robes: "My mommy did it, and she did it for me!!"
