So it's the second time I've cried over a student.
Let's call her Chatty. Chatty is a really small kid. She told me she was premature, and that's why she's the size of a 10 year old even though she's 14. She's SE, and though her IEP doesn't give specifics, I suspect she might have Williams Syndrome. She's got the face for it, and she's got the super social can't-shut-up-itis going on. She's a super sweet kid, really compassionate and cheerful, she just has a problem with oversharing and talking during independent work time.
Today's warm up (posted on Google Classroom) was one I snagged from the internet:
Do you think life was better in the past, or worse?
Explain your reasoning (5-8 sentences)
Note: you may write about your own personal past, or about the world in general.
Chatty is determined to answer this warm up. Even though the internet went down, and we switched to SSR, she went onto her phone to give herself a hotspot and try to answer the question anyways, and had to be told a few times let it go for now and concentrate on her book.
Eventually, the wifi came back and the kids who were done with that class's article practice were allowed to answer the question.
I check in with Chatty (as she is one of my regular "check in with" kids).
Me: So do you want to focus on your personal past, or the past in general?
Chatty: Personal!
Me: Awesome! So do you think it was better than the present, or worse?
Chatty: It's both? Because right now my fifteen is coming up and that's like a lot of stress. I have to get my dress and get the (Spanish word I didn't catch) and decorations, and my family is preparing, and it's just so much stress!
Me: So maybe the past was better?
Chatty: No. Maybe. Like, it's complicated. Because I got raped.
Me: . . . Oh.
Chatty: Yeah. It was my step brother. It happened for five years.
Me: So. Maybe, if you're going to talk about super personal stuff, you can leave it as a private comment so nobody sees it but me--
Chatty: It's okay. Girl 1 and Girl 2 and Girl 3-- like, lots of my friends know about it. Lots of people know. The police came when I was little and it's all resolved now, and I went to therapy at my old school and stuff.
Me: (insanely relieved) Oh! Wow. That all sounds really emotional and personal, though. If you're not comfortable writing about it--
Chatty: No, it's okay. I'm all past it. Because I figure that, like, I can't just keep thinking about it and be depressed. it happened so I have to move on. People are always surprised when I tell them because I'm like so calm about it. I wrote an essay about it when I was in middle school! It was so good, they put it in the office for people to see. I still have it on Google!
So she proceeds to open up her Google drive and brings up the essay. It's titled, "The story of an anonymous survivor".
Chatty: The teacher knew it was me, but nobody else did. All the class was really sad and said it was the best one. We were writing about suicide, and the teacher let me write about it because I started cutting my arms because of it. I had pictures and everything. They put this in the office and people said it was really powerful. The teacher cried because she knew it was me.
Me: (eyes watering) Oh wow. That sounds like a really emotional thing.
Chatty: Can I answer some of this warm up at home? I want to use some of the ideas from my essay for the answer.
Me: yeah, sure. Go for it.
Class ended not long after. the second they left for break, I had myself a small, but crucial, cry.
Sometimes these kids break my heart.