The past six weeks have been more of a challenge for this student and the teachers are feeling confused and discouraged. Methods that work for other students - positive peer pressure, pep talks, offers of extra credit, due date extensions, opportunities to advocate for assistance, and even failing grades - go unheeded by my student. The history teacher, who has assigned the standard research project, has gone to great lengths to "chunk" (per the IEP) what can appear to be an ominous and overwhelming task into smaller, manageable steps. This teacher has also provided personal cheering and prompting for my student, which this teacher had observed as having some positive influence with my student only to be faced with the harsh reality that my student hadn't actually done ANY of the work toward completion of this major project which is due tomorrow.
An email from this teacher earlier in the week afforded me the opportunity to shed some light on my student's life situation. In my email response I briefly assured this teacher that the situation with this project was not unexpected or unprecedented. Today I continued in that vein of conversation.
Of the six teachers seated at the table, only one of them was aware of my student's history of trauma. And I'm honestly not sure how I feel about that. My student's history is THEIR history and, unless my student chooses to share it, is personal and confidential. But when teachers are genuinely confused and concerned, and openly express their distress - one of them used the word "distressed" - then it seems that sharing my student's history, or at least the parts that directly impact the current situation, is helpful and right.
So I began my tired old speech about trauma and how it can affect the brain, and how unless the trauma is processed the child remains "stuck" - emotionally, intellectually, socially, academically, functionally - at a much younger age, often at the age when the trauma occurred. One of the teachers remarked, "Fascinating. I never even considered that." I continued to explain that my student has not taken advantage of the many attempts at various types of therapy and in fact adamantly refuses to participate in any activity or situation that might require even touching upon the past trauma.
One teacher remarked, "What frustrates me is - I was very firm and called your student out for lying about an assignment. It was a very heated discussion. Your student refused to speak to me; they just stood and stared at me. But a short time later when I passed your student in the hallway, they called my name, smiled, and waved at me."
What a great comment to springboard into some information about attachment issues. I explained that my student can charm the pants off of anyone, unless or until that someone places expectations on my student. Part of what seems to be happening these past six weeks is that teachers are no longer falling for the charm AND the expectations have ramped up. This research project is something that my student has been vocally protesting against for weeks at home: "I'm not DOING this. No one can make me. I don't CARE if I fail. I hope I fail." Because if my student fails, it will not be their fault; it will be the fault of the library being closed, the fault of the teacher not telling them what to do, the fault of the sister for interrupting, the fault of the radio being too loud, the fault of the computer 'glitching.' Kids with attachment issues do not attach. They fight against attaching - it's scary and it can't be trusted.
My student is not attached at home. What appears to people in the community as friendly charm, is really just superficial nice-ness that my student can pull off because there are no expectations. My student will hug a dozen people at church, but not have any meaningful conversations - that would require an uncomfortable level of trust.
At home we work on building trust. And the vicious hamster-wheel-like trust cycle has become predictable: just the time my student builds up enough trust to be out of our sight, someone gets hurt, something goes missing, or there is destruction of property. It's too scary to trust, so my student just refuses to take responsibility. And without responsibility, there are few privileges. And without privileges, life can be pretty miserable. And if life is miserable, my student can blame mom and dad. And blaming mom and dad does not promote attachment because we can't be trusted.
It's exhausting to live this way. It's exhausting to explain that we live this way. It's exhausting to help teachers understand that no amount of them bending over backwards and giving my student the benefit of every doubt will result in sudden changed behavior. It's exhausting to try and try again and believe that THIS time things will be different, that THIS time my student will feel safe enough to trust.
This evening my student and I were occupying the same space doing our own things. It's a simple, non-threatening way to build attachment. I was intentionally silent, just letting my student know that we could be near each other. After ten minutes my student took a risk and said to me, "I wonder if we'll get snow this weekend." Because that's about as deep as my student can go with me - small talk, water cooler comments - the weather.
