I work at being the kind of teacher my students are comfortable with and are willing to talk to if they need to. One way I develop and foster this comfort level is that one of my first assignments to my students is to find me outside of class time and have a 5-minute conversation with me. Some of the conversations have given me a lot of insight into some very difficult lives.
M. is an immigrant from Uganda. Her family was friends with one of the families that had a lot of political power, which resulted in several tragedies for her family. While her mother was in the US arranging for the rest of the family to be able to immigrate here, her father was taken prisoner by opposition forces. She has not seen him since (in more than two years), and when the family asked, they were told, “Don’t ask. He’s dead.” Her younger brother (probably elementary school age) was thrown into the river and drowned. Her older sister ran off with her boyfriend to try to make it to safety in Kenya. She has no idea whether or not her sister ever made it to safety. As she told this story, she said, “If you notice me crying in class for no apparent reason, it’s probably because I’m thinking about my family.”
N. has been taken out of his home by DSS on at least one occasion. He occasionally suffers from severe headaches caused by some form of abuse. He has asked to stay in my room after school when I’m around because home is not a pleasant place for him. However, he also very much wants to avoid being removed from his house by DSS, and while he appreciates my willingness to be flexible, he wants to do well in the class on his own merits, and he doesn’t want any reduction in the overall workload or responsibilities. He told me, “If you see me crying in class, it’s because the pain is getting unbearable, please understand. Also, I went through a rough time academically last year from depression, so if you notice me withdrawing and not keeping up with my work, please say something to me.”
S. has an irregular heartbeat and has missed a lot of school for surgeries and doctor’s appointments. Her sister has a similar condition, and she spent last weekend visiting with her sister in the hospital, after missing much of last week because of a severe viral infection. She’s a conscientious AP student who makes up all of the work she misses, but it causes her a significant amount of stress. Today, she said, “I’m so glad you don’t yell at me for being absent.”
G. was in my class briefly last year, but he missed more than half of the year because he was hospitalized with severe anxiety, depression, and insomnia. He is repeating his sophomore year. Last year, every time he would return to school for a week or so, he would update me on his progress. Now he’s back in school full time, and is once again in my class.
These are not stories that a teacher will ever find out through the school’s social workers or counselors. If the students hadn’t gone out on a limb to trust me enough to tell me these stories, I would never have heard them. What makes me sad is knowing that there are plenty more kids out there with stories that are just as heart-wrenching, but with no one to tell them to.
