After 18: Episode 4

Editor's note: This is the last part in an occasional series called After 18, which examines the life of Jerisha Walker, who spent 13 years in the Oklahoma foster care system.

When the camera flashes, she wants it to happen again. She wants to capture everything about this day. Her cap, her gown, her new suede heels. Jerisha Walker only gets one senior picture, and she wants it to be perfect.

Without family, money or anything to call home, Jerisha Walker did the ordinary. She graduated from high school.

The first thing she says is that it hasn't been easy. One year ago, Walker was one of nearly 500 teenagers to age out of Oklahoma's foster care system. Two-thirds didn't have a diploma. Only one-third of them will get one this year.

Walker tried getting her GED on her own. She held it together for a few months before losing her job at Braum's. When her life got chaotic, school was the next thing to go. GED classes took a back seat to finding money and worrying about losing her apartment.

She turned to someone who had been there in the past, someone she called her "second mom."

If anyone could help her graduate, it was Debbie McCullough.

McCullough wrangles two bags of helium balloons and a box of table decorations out of the car. The founder of Tulsa Hope Academy had worked hard to make graduation day special for her students. The day before, she took Walker and two other students to the mall to buy dresses, get pedicures and get their hair done. She took them out to TGI Friday's for girl talk. She bought a cake with whipped icing, Walker's favorite.

A crowd of 100 family, friends, therapists and pastors trickle into the auditorium for Tulsa Hope Academy's graduation ceremony earlier this month. Ninety of them showed up to support their underdog student and shout when their names are called. Ten are there to graduate.

Walker sits in the front row with her arms folded. Local pastors and reverends give speeches on giving your life to God's plan. They say every struggle has its purpose. "Some of you might not know the next step," says the Rev. Karen Mosley. Walker smiles.

Much like turning 18, turning 19 hasn't yielded any quick answers.

Walker enrolled at Tulsa Community College, but she hasn't signed up for any classes yet. She considered moving to Houston. She considered the Army. She considered a promise she and three friends made in a shelter in Lawton in 2005. They wanted to get an apartment together when they aged out. The girls had everything in common. But one has a baby now, and the others have boyfriends, and things are complicated.

Last month, Walker was honored during state Superintendent Sandy Garrett's State of Education speech. Through her story in the newspaper, Walker became the poster child for what's broken about the foster care system in Oklahoma.

In 13 years, Walker has been in 26 foster homes, and has a hard time remembering all the high schools she's attended. She stood up and was recognized in front of every high school administrator in the state. Afterward, she stood by Garrett's side during television interviews. She left with Garrett's business card in her purse. Walker hasn't made a call yet.

At the ceremony, McCullough speaks from the heart. She steps to the microphone and addresses every student individually, talking about how far they've come and the potential she sees in them. She saves Jerisha Walker for last.

"You're an overcomer," McCullough says. Walker tightens her lips to hold emotions back. "If you ever feel like giving up, you know who to call."

"I've got you on speed dial," Walker says.

Walker struts like a diva up the stage to a roar of applause and shouting. She hugs McCullough and walks off, diploma in hand, high heels clicking the floor. The ceremony ends. The cake with whipped icing is cut and enjoyed. And soon after, the crowd disperses.

McCullough loads the balloons and table decorations into the car, and Walker climbs into the passenger seat. She is silent.

"Boy, you're quiet," McCullough says on the 10-minute drive back to her house. The question of what happens next weighs heavy on Walker's mind. McCullough is the first to bring it up. She can see the stress on her face.

McCullough knows being 19 years old and having a high school diploma isn't a guarantee to success. She knows that for Walker, graduating high school isn't the end. It is the beginning.

That beginning is as tough as she's experienced. There's still no family, money, or a stable home. Walker is staying for now in a tiny apartment with a friend and her three children, the friend's mother, and her two sisters. Seven people plus Walker.

She doesn't have a job; the last one didn't work out. It took her seven months to find it.

The two continue talking while they unload the table decorations from the car in the dark.

"You just need a plan," McCullough says. "And then you'll work toward your plan."