Michael's Story: Another Reason to Prioritize Reopening Schools

My husband and I spent a good chunk of time (and money) this weekend reorganizing our son’s room in a manner that would be more conducive to his virtual learning. He thrives with ADHD - I prefer "thrives" to “suffers from” as a preface - but virtual school has not been ideal for us, to say the least. But, this story is not about my family or our struggles/successes, this story is about Michael.* 

Michael is a boy that was in my 4th grade class. He was very quiet, always respectful of the teacher and excelled at math and four-square. Sometimes he had problems controlling his anger on the playground, but nothing that ever led to anything as serious as a visit to the principal’s office. I went to very diverse schools throughout my childhood, and Ft. Rucker Elementary was no different. As the daughter of an Army officer, I went to school and lived on base with families from all over the country and all walks of life. I didn’t realize just how unique this was until I went to my first civilian school after my Dad’s retirement – and only as an adult did I realize just how lucky I was to have experienced this melting pot as a child.

Now, back to Michael. One day during our morning recess, Michael chose sit out our normal four-square game. I remember seeing him on the bleachers, clearly uncomfortable, almost awkward looking and definitely devoid of that bright goofy smile. After recess, he was struggling with his math assignment. Ms. Seitz recognized what she thought was academic frustration. She approached his desk from behind and laid gentle hands on his back and shoulder in an attempt to calm his nerves as they tackled this math problem together. His chest shot forward, he let out a sharp cry and he tried to hide his pain. 

“Michael, are you ok?”

 Michael, what's wrong!?” she quickly asked.

Michael looked so scared, so afraid of Ms. Seitz knowing, so nervous about the class learning about what happened to Michael when he would go home from school. While it probably would have landed her in court in today’s day and age, Ms. Seitz was clearly in crisis mode and wanted to find out the cause of Michael’s pain as quickly and easily as possible – so she asked if she could see what was wrong and then gently lifted the back of his shirt. I’ll never forget the moments that followed. The fresh welting on his skin, the dried blood that caused his wounded skin to his shirt, the old scars that carved up his muscular back and torso… but more than anything, I remember the pain and fear in his eyes.

As you might imagine, the rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. The class went to “library” while Michael was politely asked to stay behind. We stayed at “library” for a long time and when we returned to the classroom, Michael was gone. Michael never returned to school that day. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into the summer. We never saw Michael again. 

So, why is Michael’s story so important right now? Do I believe that schools are (or should be) the front line against child abuse or domestic violence? Not necessarily. But do I believe that a significant number of children find safety and refuge within school walls? ABSOLUTELY. 

Schools can be a warm place, when children have no heat; a clean place when they live in filth; a quiet place when they are surrounded by sirens and screams; a noisy place when they are surrounded by the silence of being left alone; a dry place when they live under a tarped roof; an organized place when homes are chaotic.

I imagine what Michael’s life would be like as a virtual student in 2020, and my heart hurts for all of our Michaels.

*Michael is a fictitious name for this story - but not a fictitious character, unfortunately.