When I started school in Tennessee after moving from North Carolina I was miserable. I had just lost all the friends I had worked hard to make in North Carolina , and I instinctively   worried that the civilian school culture would be far less accepting of me than the base school.  In later years I would find just how accurate that fear turned out to be  but the fourth grade was wonderful. Mrs. Alsup was and still is my favorite teacher from elementary school.She  and Mrs. Ryan , my in school aid,did everything they could to help me succeed.  When Mrs. Alsup had the  idea to pair some of my rowdier classmates with  me in a  peer helping system in class, she asked my parents but she also asked me how I felt about it and made it clear if I said no the whole  project was scrapped. I said yes and it turned into one of the most fun and enlightening things I have ever done. I  think she was one of the first adults to give me full veto power over an idea and mean it. This means a lot because I’m 31 now and still not granted that basic level of autonomy  by some people. I told you all this small stuff to get to the big thing, the thing she probably doesn’t even realize she did, Mrs. Alsup saved my life.

Fast forward to the fifth grade  As wonderful as the fourth grade was that’s how awful the fifth  grade turned to be. The teacher was great, my aide that was evil. Mrs. Ryan had decided to go to school to be a teacher and so I was paired with a new aid entering my fifth-grade year. This woman was verbally and/or  emotionally abusive every single day . She teased me and called me names because  I needed LOTS  of repetition to grasp math concepts. She yelled at me and made  me cry because bladder spasms I couldn’t control  made me have accidents at least once a week, which of course, she had to clean up. She chastised me about my weight, even though I was only eleven and had only just started to come close to weighing the same as other kids my  age. For a while, I wasn’t allowed to play on the playground because she didn’t want to push my chair through shavings. I was permitted to read outside during recess but I think  the other kids thought I was in trouble because I  was sitting with teachers and didn’t talk to me , meaning the baby friendships I had started the previous year fell apart fast.

Why didn’t I tell my teacher? She and my aid were friends outside of  school and I didn’t think she’d believe me. I know that I should have told her anyway. I could’ve gone to Mrs. Alsup, she would have listened  if my new teacher wouldn’t . At  some point that year I seriously considered suicide. The reason I didn’t try apart from worrying about my parents and sister, was the  love and time Mrs. Alsup put into me .

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