With six kids, a full-time job for Butler Bus Company and pet snakes, dogs and goats, Sarah Hodgdon didn’t have much free time.

But this year, she earned her high school diploma.

Her house was too hectic for her to be able to focus, so she took advantage of the gaps between bus routes.

“I would do my school run, and then go back to the office and do my school work there,” she said.

Hodgdon was one of six students graduating from Second Start, a program that supports adults seeking to complete their high school education, on Thursday evening. The graduates and their families – ranging from two to 16 members large – gathered in a Concord classroom decorated with balloons and banners to recognize the achievement.

“It’s a celebration, not a ceremony,” said program director Kelly Dobin.

At 43, Hodgdon had been wanting this for a long time. This was her third attempt at Second Start – her first became impossible when she couldn’t find a babysitter, and her second was interrupted by a pregnancy.

“This is a huge accomplishment,” Hodgdon smiled. “I was super nervous. I didn’t want to cry.”

It feels different for everybody. For Maita Subba, a production operator from Bhutan, it’s underwhelming.

“I’m not proud,” he said. “I’m almost 41 and I’m graduating high school.”

Still, he recognized that he had to fight for it. Waking up at 6 a.m., making breakfast, taking his seven-year-old daughter Nerisha to school, and doing his school work before a 3 to 11 p.m. shift made for a demanding daily schedule. Plus, English is his second language.

“I had a hard time,” he said. “But I did this for my self-improvement. And for my daughter, later in life, to help her with her homework.”

But some were as eager as 18-year-olds, thrilled by the feeling of possibility that lay on the other side. “Students have been texting me all day,” Dobin said. “‘What should I wear? Will I get a cap? Will I have a tassel?’”

“It’s so beautiful.”

When everyone had arrived, Dobin stood at the front of the classroom with diplomas in hand.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” she started. “You drove me crazy.

“I loved every minute of it. And I’m really glad you guys felt comfortable enough to call me at all hours of the night.”

The room laughed.

“When you have a job application and they ask you if you have a high school diploma or a GED,” she continued, “you don’t have to cringe anymore.

“You went the non-traditional way. That’s even harder. It’s easy when you’re younger – you go to high school, you graduate. Great. You did it. But to go back? That takes a lot.”

One by one, she invited the graduates up to the front.

“This student, I don’t even know what to say. He’s been in our program for years. He’s from out of the country, English is his second language… So imagine how hard this was for him.”

Subba’s face gave way to a small smile. He walked to the front , and his girlfriend Nimasherpa stood up to take a photo. Nerisha grinned widely, her tongue sticking out. “I forgot to bring flowers,” Nimasherpa laughed. When Subba returned to his seat, Nerisha pounced onto his lap and wrapped her arms around her dad. He took the graduation cap from his head and fitted it onto hers.

Dobin continued to the next graduate.

“Is it okay if I tell your story?” she asked, looking at Hodgdon. Hodgdon nodded, holding back tears.

“So she’s a bus driver,” Dobin said, “And she works in between. She was doing homework every day between her runs. I could go on the computer, and like clockwork, she would be on it at the same time, every single day.

“I am beyond proud of her. She didn’t think she could do it.”

Hodgdon blushed as she took her diploma in one hand and adjusted her cap with the other. “This is my third time doing it,” she admitted to her family from the front of the room. Many of them didn’t even know she was graduating until she invited them to the celebration.

“I wanted to make sure my kids, my two little ones especially, know that it’s important to graduate. To finish school,” she said.

Her youngest son, Trey, looked up at her from his chair.

“Well, turn around,” said Dobin. “What does the sign say?”

Hodgdon turned and studied the emphatic banner hung behind her. “You did it,” she read aloud.

“You did it,” Dobin confirmed. The room erupted into applause.

Sofie Buckminster can be reached at sbuckminster@cmonitor.com