I don’t know what to do about Katy.
I’m sure she could harm herself.
I’m equally certain she could inflict damage on someone else.
Two days ago, she turned in an essay in my tenth-grade Honors English class in the Los Angeles public school where I teach. The assignment entitled, S/He Had a History, is based on a chapter in Tim O’Brien’s novel, Going After Cacciato, in which Paul Berlin, a 20-year-old American soldier in Vietnam, sensing he may not survive the war, thinks back on his life.
Here are some of my students’ opening lines:
She had a history that involved a violent father.
He had a history of his parents who didn’t care if he went to school or not.
She had a history of living in constant crisis. People put her down and reminded her she was no one.
She attended five funerals by the time she was eleven.
He had a history of carrying a .22mm Glock at 14 years old because no one had his back.
All these statements are sad and shocking, yet I have gotten to know these young writers over the first 15 weeks and I see them in class writing, sharing their stories, building friendships. I seem them growing, maturing, dealing positively with the hands they’ve been dealt.
But not Katy.
She wrote, “She had a long history of depression.”
Six weeks ago, I sent her to the nurse’s Office when she told me she was feeling ill. She often seeks refuge there. On this occasion, she returned 20 minutes later full of energy and bouncing her basketball that she had retrieved from the nurse’s office. When I told her that she didn’t have to lie about why she needed to leave class, she shouted, “Half of everything you say is bullshit!”
Then she stormed out of the room.
After school, I met with the dean who looked at me and said, “Who is it?”
“Katy Brown,” I said.
“She curse you out?”
“First time that’s happened in my 24 years of teaching.”
“She has a long history of speaking her mind.”
The dean called Katy’s mother and set up a conference.
Mom never showed.
Dad is an alcoholic and he and his daughter avoid each other.
For the next five days Katy ditched my class.
Upon her return, she handed me a blue form issued by the school in which the student is prompted to apologize and promise to behave well. A meaningless exercise.
Back in class, Katy went through her usual motions: some days she slept; some days she drew the girls sitting next to her into her daily drama; other times she held hands with and stroked the hair of Mariana, the cheerleader who sits behind her.
When Katy read her She Had a History essay which included references to her drinking, drug usage, cutting and years of loneliness, the class responded with spontaneous applause, an act of kindness, respect, acceptance.
Later, I motioned her into the hallway and said, “That was great writing and amazingly brave of you. Thanks for reading.”
“It’s all true,” she said.
“I believe you. And listen, I get it. I grew up in a family that suffered depression. I had an aunt who was institutionalized. And uncle who underwent electroshock. As a kid, every time I reached into a kitchen cabinet for a glass, I knocked over bottles of anti-depressants. Are you getting help?”
“I see a therapist,” she said.
“On campus or off?”
“Both.”
“Listen, if you ever need to go see the school psychologist or you need to leave class and walk around campus, or talk to a friend, just say so. Okay?”
“Thanks.”
I felt we made progress. A connection.
The next day I stood at the podium waiting for the bell to ring to start class. Suddenly, I heard a crash, then my knee buckled.
An earthquake?
I looked up.
Katy was flying out the door.
Her desk lay sideways on the floor.
Her backpack, stuffed with textbooks, had ricocheted off the wall and struck my knee.
I approached her friends.
“I didn’t hear any arguing? What happened?”
“It was about something at lunch,” Lillian Hernandez said.
Thirty minutes later, Katy returned, tears streaming down her face.
“Want to tell me about it?” I asked.
“I’ll be okay,” she said. “Can I get my cellphone and backpack?”
I retrieved her things.
“Do me a favor. Go sit in the nurse’s office and come talk to me after school. I don’t want you leaving campus in this state.”
She nodded.
She didn’t come back.
After school, I met with her counselor. Katy’s school rap sheet ran several pages. I was the sixth teacher over the last four years Katy had cursed. In middle school, she had been suspended for using marijuana and cocaine.
Katy is 16.
An Honors and AP student.
An athlete.
And in constant pain.
Her family seems to have given up on her.
Her teachers can’t control her.
Her therapists have failed to help her cope with her anger.
She’s my student.
Someone’s daughter.
And she’s drowning.
She’s a kid who has experienced something terrible, some hurt so deep she apparently can’t name it.
She has two and a half more years of school before she is thrust out into the world with no one to turn to.
So what do we do about Katy?
I am open to suggestions.
__
Photo credit: Getty Images
Hey friend. It’s been a while. Sometimes one teacher can change a life. Encouraging her to keep a diary might be helpful. As every writer knows, once you write it down, you let it go…somewhat. Hope all is well.
Hi Julie, thanks for writing and this is weird. I was just on FB and saw your home in the snow and wrote, Where are you guys? The diary is a good idea. Gladly, I am collecting some good ideas here that I will use. Let’s talk.
Dennis, what an incredible story. I am rooting for Katy. I wish I had a good suggestions but I like the ones you have received already. You’re doing something genuinely rare and good. It sounds like she sees that and she responds. I’m sure it is overwhelming in the moment. But you are there nonetheless. And that’s a beautiful thing. Rooting for you too. Thanks for writing this – it’s so important. I was suicidal at her age too – it’s a beast. I do feel medication in addition to therapy could help. Just makes it easier to do the… Read more »
Angela, thanks so much for your wise and comforting words. It’s comforting to hear people who like you who are concerned and compassionate reaching out. I am collection all these good thoughts and will take them back and keep working with Katy, hoping and knowing she has the ability to improve. I see slow growth. Thanks for checking in.
I think what you are doing with Katy may be the best thing for her. You are giving her an outlet that can be healing and constructive. I had a few students of similar background who got a lot out of an assignment I handed them. I wrote the title on the journal and asked them to write whenever they felt like it. MY FUCKED UP LIFE by __________________. They welcomed the assignment and turned in some incredible work. One girl found it helpful enough to confront her rapist father and ended up sending him to jail. Another girl wrote… Read more »
Thanks Carlo, and I am absolutely going to use your lesson plan. Though, I may have to call it My F—–ed Up Life. School rules and all. But you’re write. The more we allow our students to say or write what they need to get out,the better. Thanks much.
I think it would benefit Katy tremendously to be admitted to an in-patient facility, but voluntarily. Any other way, she will rebel. She needs intensive intervention and counseling and most likely, her meds need to be monitored. Poor kid. I hope she is okay.
Thanks for your thoughts. I will run that by the school psychologist, as the only inpatient facilities I’m aware of are expensive. But I’m sure I’ll need an education here. Thanks for the enlightenment. It’s appreciated.
Has anyone asked her what she thinks she needs? Or what her ideal life situation would be? I know it sounds kind of obvious but when I’m lost with young adults I try to put them in the driving seat, in a world that always puts them in the backseat. If they answer “I don’t know”, I usually go back with “Well what would you think if you did know?” and it usually catches them off guard enough to answer. It sounds pretty simple but I find that if I keep giving them the opportunity to find the answer that… Read more »
Shereen, really appreciate what you’ve shared here. I wrote the column feeling absolutely stuck and your comments and the ones I’ve received give me insights and avenues and even the exact words (“Well what would you think if you did know?”) to use. I appreciate the script. And I’ll use it. Many thanks.
This so great! Yes. Asking them. Sometimes, even asking them “I wonder what it might feel like if _______” Sometimes they can visit a different outcome in their imagination and from that place, slowly, they can move there.
Beautiful. And… as someone who taught girls this age in a residential treatment center… the place Katy is very possibly headed if things don’t change for her… I think what you are doing is a very good start. No matter how much cursing or throwing or shouting or storming out – you continue to be steady, stable, available to her. Responsive not reactive. Always encouraging her to talk, to take a break. One day, maybe, when she needs it most, she will reach out. Maybe. And writing. Would she consider working on a creative writing project that’s just for her?… Read more »
Hi HOlly, First off thanks for your wise and insightful comments. I really like the idea of a creative writing project, in addition to the smaller papers I do. I see Katy in 20 hours and I’m going to call her aside and propose that. And if she says no, maybe she’d agree if one of her friends/classmates works with her. She hasn’t reached out, but since writing her piece she….occasionally….not always quiets down. I know whatever troubles her on such a deep level, it will be a slow road to health, self-respect. But “each moment at a time” is… Read more »
Two other thoughts – approaches we used. First, and maybe most important, is to remind ourselves that every day is a new day. We don’t carry forward yesterday’s poor choices, outbursts, disrespect, etc. This way we are able to give the student a clean slate every day. (It’s so easy to begin to expect certain behavior, because it’s what they did yesterday and the day before that… but they desperately need the opportunity to change. And the only way they have the space to try something new, make a different choice, is if we give them that clean slate each… Read more »
I ran the creative writing project by her today…with the option of collaborating with a friend…she’s taking it under consideration…which is good. It wasn’t a “no”.
That’s not a bad start. Hoping for the best…
She has a lot of hurt in her past but she also has tremendous strengths today. The chances are very good that her strengths will ultimately triumph. You can only nurture her strengths and, in the end, that is the most important thing anyone can do . She can do the rest with time, and a bit of luck.
Graham, thank you for your wisdom. I needed to hear that. In fact, I’ve read your comments over and over. I, as her teacher, needs to feel there is hope…as much as she needs to feel there is a positive future for her.
Thanks for words. I’ll treasure them.
What words can convey the feelings stirred in this complex story of a student and her dedicated teacher? Anger, frustration, sadness. And yet, Dennis, you bring hope into the picture, by taking us, moment-by-moment, into a world where too many of us are afraid to look. You are present in Katy’s life, as you are for all your students. Word? Gratitude. For all you do, and above-all, for offering the route for positive change through literacy, writing and community.
Thanks Susan. Appreciate the props and yet in the moment, dealing with Katy’s despair can be overwhelming. I think the answer is to never ever give up on any of these kids. And hope something sinks in in a positive way