Sad Student Story - Jewel

I still see Jewel (obviously not her real name) around the school. I taught her a few years ago when she was in grade 9. She'll definitely be one of the kids I'll always remember.

For the first two weeks of grade 9, she was strangely silent in class; never interacting with any of the other kids and putting her head down on her desk instead of doing her work. I went to go look up her student record to see if it had any useful information about her.

I've seen some horrifying student records before - details of abuse and crazy parents and terrible behavioural problems. One kid had been to 12 different schools by grade 9. Another record told me about a murdered father.

Jewel's record was probably the worst I'd ever read. A student record usually contains old report cards, correspondence between parents and the school, records of any suspensions or expulsions, details about any learning disabilities or health problems, all kinds of things. Her old report cards weren't anything too strange - comments for years about her being withdrawn and quiet in class. But then I found an old letter from her mom to her former elementary school explaining why she couldn't take the bus with the other kids.

When she was very small, she had been abducted from a bus and sexually assaulted by two men. A lot of her problems had started after that. I hope she was too young to remember anything.

I tried for the next few weeks to develop a relationship with her - and it worked. She was a natural writer, and so she liked English class. I would praise her writing. She started sitting closer to my desk at the front, and would shyly talk to me after class was over. She never spoke to any of the other kids.

Her mother came in once for a parent-teacher interview. Ugh. I had a much better understanding of what Jewel had to deal with after that. Her mother kept trying to turn the conversation to herself whenever I would start praising her daughter. She would tell weird, unrelated anecdotes from her life, acting as if talking about her talented, smart daughter was the most boring thing in the world.

Jewel began to confide in me more and more. She told me about her family. I told her that with her brains, she could some day get a job and move far, far away from anyone she wanted. She replied, "I know, miss," in a painfully wistful tone.

Since she was a great writer and had a lot of emotions to vent, I encouraged her to keep a diary, but she said she couldn't because her mother would search her room and find it. I suggested she keep it in her locker, and she looked thoughtful.

After that year, I still saw her in the halls and sometimes we would stop and chat. She told me all about her biological father reappearing all of a sudden. It reminded me of that Babysitter's Club movie from the early '90s: her father found her online and made her promise not to tell her mother she was talking to him. That is not the type of stress a 14 year old should have to cope with.

Now she's older, and I wonder what she'll do with her life. Her marks have started slipping as of late because she finally made some friends. Now she hangs out with people at lunch, instead of sitting in the stairwell by herself doing her homework.

She's a strong girl who has been through too much already. She's almost done high school by now; she's nearly old enough to move out and away from her mother. I hope she'll be happier.