In the normal course of being an intervention specialist, I am asked almost daily and sometimes several times daily to take one or more students to the library. There, distractions are few. Students with problems concentrating are better able to focus on their schoolwork.
A few weeks ago I was asked to take a young lady in the seventh grade to the library to go over some math problems with her. She was a pleasant-looking, Hispanic, young lady, with lustrous black hair, a slightly rounded face, and a beautiful smile. Dressed as students at this middle school are required to dress, she wore tan pants and along-sleeved, green sweatshirt with the school name across it.
I had seen her laughing and smiling and joking around with other students in the classroom she had come from. But when we were alone, she seemed troubled. We started on the math problems. After three or four minutes, she stopped and asked me: "Do you think it is ok if students cut themselves ?"
If I had had my psychiatric wits about me, I might have asked her in a very non-judgmental way, "What do you think about it?" My reaction, however, though non-judgmental, was to reply that I didn't think it was a good thing to do.
As we talked, she pulled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. There, carved freshly into her skin, was her name. She said she had started doing that a while ago, and that some other students did it, too. If she had not mentioned the therapist, I would have immediately reported the situation to the school nurse. But she made it clear that she was talking to the nurse already, and also "getting therapy."
We chatted a bit about her life. She, six other people and a dog lived in a single room and shared a kitchen with other people living in the apartment. Her father was an electrician. He could not get much work, however, and was barely able to pay the rent and buy the family food. What worried her the most, however, was that her father was going through some sort of immigration proceedings, and ran the danger of being sent back to Mexico. "If they deport him, what's going to happen to us ?" she asked.
With these things hanging over her head, I did not know how back in the classroom she managed to smile.
A few weeks ago I was asked to take a young lady in the seventh grade to the library to go over some math problems with her. She was a pleasant-looking, Hispanic, young lady, with lustrous black hair, a slightly rounded face, and a beautiful smile. Dressed as students at this middle school are required to dress, she wore tan pants and along-sleeved, green sweatshirt with the school name across it.
I had seen her laughing and smiling and joking around with other students in the classroom she had come from. But when we were alone, she seemed troubled. We started on the math problems. After three or four minutes, she stopped and asked me: "Do you think it is ok if students cut themselves ?"
If I had had my psychiatric wits about me, I might have asked her in a very non-judgmental way, "What do you think about it?" My reaction, however, though non-judgmental, was to reply that I didn't think it was a good thing to do.
As we talked, she pulled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. There, carved freshly into her skin, was her name. She said she had started doing that a while ago, and that some other students did it, too. If she had not mentioned the therapist, I would have immediately reported the situation to the school nurse. But she made it clear that she was talking to the nurse already, and also "getting therapy."
We chatted a bit about her life. She, six other people and a dog lived in a single room and shared a kitchen with other people living in the apartment. Her father was an electrician. He could not get much work, however, and was barely able to pay the rent and buy the family food. What worried her the most, however, was that her father was going through some sort of immigration proceedings, and ran the danger of being sent back to Mexico. "If they deport him, what's going to happen to us ?" she asked.
With these things hanging over her head, I did not know how back in the classroom she managed to smile.
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