One of the Independent schoolteacher/ diarist’s students is pregnant. She’s failing almost everything, can barely write an essay, has gotten into fights — and now she’s going to be a mother?!
Jan. 12, 2006
One of my girls is pregnant. And another girl, who’s in the 10th grade, is pregnant too. And not for the first time, either.
My girl, Kristie, is an 11th grader. She hasn’t told me herself yet, but I’ve heard enough rumors, overheard enough conversations, and had it confirmed by an administrator. I wonder why she’s not telling me. I’m upset by Kristie’s behavior. In Advisory on Tuesday, she spent a good deal of time talking about names for her baby. And some of the other girls in Advisory, who run with her same group, sat with her and sounded excited. She seems proud of herself, a little bit — but she’s not saying anything to me.
She’s failing almost everything, can barely write an essay, has gotten into fights — and now she’s going to be a mother?!
Whatever happened to childhood? Whatever happened to kids just being kids?
What makes her think she can be a mother? What makes her think that she can be successful in caring for another life when she hasn’t even fully lived her own? What makes her think she can do this?
Last year, Brinn thought she was pregnant. She came to me and told me, and we went to Planned Parenthood together to pick up information on all possible outcomes. It turned out that she wasn’t pregnant, and we were both thankful.
I miss Brinn. Her expulsion hearing was yesterday. I don’t know the outcome yet. I’m assuming she’s gone, but my principal told me that he wanted to fight for her to stay. I haven’t heard either way.
Our vice principal thinks it won’t be Kristie raising her baby; it’ll be Kristie’s mother raising Kristie’s baby. Then my concern goes out to Kristie’s mother. It’s not fair for her mom to take on that responsibility while she has her own children to raise. That’s not fair and not right. Kristie is a child. She has so much stuff to work through and she’ll never be able to if her childhood is lost to raising a baby. To tell you the truth, I don’t even know how to write about this. I know it’s a complex issue.
Jan. 13, 2006
Here are some scattered thoughts this morning:
I have had coffee only four times this week, including Sunday.
Last night I had pizza for the first time in three weeks.
I joined a gym — “In Shape in North Haven — “and it is amazing.
I love my colleagues.
I am totally afraid of having a baby.
I’m psyched for the long weekend.
I’m psyched for Utah, although last night I had a dream that I was snowboarding down a gigantic hill and I went off the trail into the woods.
I want to be a writer.
I want to teach in India.
Maybe I’ll write about teaching in India.
Allegiances to friends should be stronger than allegiances to infatuations.
I can usually tell when people are lying to me.
I would rather know the whole truth than be played for a fool.
Public Service Announcement:
I went to Long Wharf Theater on Wednesday night to see Private Lives with Dennis and his parents. Go. I was a giggling mess during the whole thing. (“A child of two could get drunk off of a single glass of brandy.” “Well what about a child of three? A child of six? A child of nine? We could have a lovely little debate about it!”) Absolutely brilliant.
School Stuff Update:
Okay. Here’s the official news: Both Brinn and the girl she was fighting with, Allison, are expelled until after February vacation. I’m breathing a sigh of relief because I know this is a good, safe place for Brinn. In that breath, though, is a little squeeze of concern because I’m not sure what she’s in store for as far as peer pressure, peer reaction, work load, when she returns. Our school has made it mandatory for her to participate in mediation with Allison and the other girls who were involved, so that’s good news. I think there was a mediation meeting over winter vacation, and perhaps there’ll be one more. I’m eager to get her back here, even a little more under my wing. I just can’t even believe what this girl has been through.
Friend Update:
This morning I got an e‑mail from my friend, Paul, who is stationed in Kuwait. It was a surprise both to hear from him and to find out where he was. Over the past two years, it seems like he’s been everywhere in the world — ¬¶I met him when I went to URI. We became instant friends and he was an Engineering student. We would stay up late, take really late walks on Narragansett town beach, drink tea, eat good Italian food, talk about cycling. When I moved to Southern Vermont for the summer to teach camping skills to kids, he sent me a care package of tea and a book I’d been talking about getting. And a long letter of thanks for our good and instant friendship. We were good buddies. He told me his dream was to join the Army. I thought he was crazy. The year I before I went to Brown, and just after he graduated, he followed through with his dream. He moved down to Atlanta, went through Basic Training, and got shipped all over the place. He met a girl, married her, and now they’re doing the Army thing. He’s got such faith, Paul does. Faith in himself, in his marriage, in God. And I think his faith is strengthened because he followed through with his dream. I miss him today.