Several, but one comes to mind in particular. (Going anon because he follows me on Quora). I’m going to call him Dmitri.
I met Dmitri when he was in 7th grade when I was to be his teacher. Before the first day of school at the middle school where I teach (which starts in 7th grade) we have a fun hiking day where students get to interact with their teachers, parents can come if they want, they usually do, and we get to be outside. Of course it’s optional, but students are strongly encouraged to come.
Dmitri came by himself. When we got to the top we do this exercise where everyone picks out two palm sized rocks. They choose one they don’t like very much and let it represent all their fears and angers, and then they throw that off the mountain, we encourage them to scream when they do this if they want to (it’s often fun to just scream as loud as you can), and then with the other rock you let it represent what you love about yourself or you let it represent someone you love. We often tell them that they can save it for someone they love. When Dmitri threw his first rock over the mountain (which is in a direction nobody is so no passing hikers could be potentially hit with rocks) he let out the most gut wrenching scream ever, he doubled over with it and screamed until he couldn’t anymore, I remember thinking to myself, “that is a child with demons”.
The school year started, I was Dmitri’s English and history teacher. He was a great student. The kind of student nobody worries about. 4.0 GPA, top marks in all areas, he was very popular although he didn’t have any real friendships, but he didn’t have any enemies either. He had a great sense of humor and was just a very likable kid. He was also a good writer. His essays were always pretty good, although also very closed off. Like he was locking the reader out of the story, he never connected anything to himself, he seemed scared to show that level of emotion. The way he outlined and articulated essays was good beyond his years, but he never made the reader feel anything. Which isn’t surprising, not that many 7th graders know how to make a reader laugh or cry.
About half way into the semester there was an assignment for the student’s to write about a time they struggled to say something. This could be having a hard time telling the truth, having trouble saying how they were feeling, or just any struggle with communication they have had. I see Dmitri’s essay in his folder as he’s sorting through some papers from his bag and go to grab it. He quickly grabs it before I can and says, “Oh, um, that’s a rough draft” Then he hands me another version. Which I accept. But before I go I ask if I can have the rough draft as well. I really like watching the way a student’s writing changes between drafts and assure him I won’t grade the rough version. He seems like he very much wants to say no, but he was a very passive kid and he so he agreed.
I’m grading papers that night and first read his final version. Pretty much what I was expecting, a well written, well organized introspective essay regarding when you should tell the truth to preserve somebodies feelings and when honesty is more important. It’s ideas were deep, but he did a weak job connecting it back to his own life. Then I read the rough draft. It was on a completely different topic and blew my mind. It wasn’t organized or planned, I don’t think Dmitri outlined it first and it seems like he wrote it without the intention of it being read. It seemed more like something he did for himself therapeutically.
The essay was about his older brother who had died of a drug overdose when Dmitri was 9 and his brother was 15 (this is not something I had known about). He talked about how difficult it became to talk to people after that. One quote that really stayed with me, taken directly from the essay, was “At the funeral everyone felt the need to talk to me. They gave me their condolences and told me it would be okay even when it clearly wouldn’t be. I wanted them to go away and shut up and just let me be alone with silence. After the funeral, after all the thoughts and prayers were out of the way, everyone faded into the background. They were so worried they’d say the wrong thing that they chose to say nothing at all. With a mother who had collapsed into herself I was left alone with a dead older brother and I ended up resenting the silence I had searched for at the funeral. I looked for [brother’s name] everywhere. In his room, on the trails we used to hike, in the medical examiners toxicology report. All I found was a stranger who I felt I had no right to grieve” Dmitri went on to talk about how after his brother’s death he had become obsessed with the police investigation into where his brother had gotten the drugs. Because, as Dmitri put it, he wanted someone to blame. He blamed himself for not knowing about his brother’s use, and his brother for using, and he just wanted someone who wasn’t him or his brother to blame. To quote another part of his essay “They never found the dealer and it took me over a year to realize it didn’t matter. I wanted them to because then it wouldn’t be [brother’s name]’s fault for doing drugs, or mine for not knowing he was doing them, it’d be all the dealers fault for giving them to him”.
It was, without a doubt, the best student writing I’d ever read. It made me cry, in parts it even made me laugh.
I talked to Dmitri about it.
He broke down in the conversation and said he hadn’t actually talked to anyone about his brother in over a year. We talked for awhile.
At the end of the semester I found a little box with a note from Dmitri. The note read: “I wasn’t sure what this was supposed to represent. There were no parts of myself I particularly liked and no one I felt comfortable declaring a love for, even if the declaration was a private one. Thank you for showing me the parts of myself it could be and for showing me what a healthy relationship is. You’re the person I was meant to give this to” Inside the box was his rock from the start of year hike. I’ve kept it for the passed 3 years, it’s the most thoughtful student gift I could have asked for.
I’ve loved continuing to get to know Dmitri. He’s in 10th grade now and with his intellect combined with one of hell of a work ethic and his determination to be the first in his family to graduate college, I’m quite certain he has a big future ahead of him.