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[quote=Anonymous][quote=Anonymous][quote=Anonymous][quote=Anonymous][quote=Anonymous]I am sure some of my teachers would have thought I was a bad kid and they probably had good reason to think it. Neurodevelopmental disorders like ADHD must have been known about, but I was never tested or identified. That might have been because my grades were good, yet I found it difficult to concentrate, easily distracted and was terrible with the concept of time management. I was always challenging teachers, questioning what they were saying, with a different view or reasoning.  I had a major issue with soiling my underwear, then denying it. That lasted almost all the way through school, so I guess I would have been a bad kid in some teacher’s opinion.

My brother and sister didn’t have any of those problems, and they just fitted in with average grades. That meant they didn’t seem to get noticed, unlike me that was always in trouble for something. Being removed from class or made to sit in the corner happened often, especially when I challenged a teacher.  My parents didn’t seem to know how to manage me and often showed their frustration. They believed I was soiling my underwear intentionally and regularly compared me to a “normal child” my age. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t be that “normal child” they wanted, which only made my situation worse.

That led me to believe I was that bad kid, and it wasn’t until I was midway through high school [b]that a teacher realised what was going on. She decided to make it her challenge to help me and no matter how hard I rebelled she persisted. Changes were slow for me, but thanks to her I achieved them.[/b] [/quote]

This is so touching. Hugs pp. [/quote]

Thanks for the hugs.

It would have been good to have a few of them when I was growing up and some understanding. Instead, I received constant disparaging comments like. “Your brother doesn’t do that”, “I bet none of the other kids in your grade do that”, “you must be doing it on purpose”, “shut up and go away” . They can be so destructive, and I see it all the time with parents that seem to have little idea of what they are doing to their kids. After a while I believed what they were saying, and that I was a bad person or hopeless.

By the time that teacher came into my life I was angry, bitter, and very disconnected. Soon after she started at our school she questioned if I had soiled myself during class. My first response was to deny it, with my by then aggressive attitude. In a calm voice she put her arm around me and said, “How about we get you cleaned up, and have a talk about what’s going on, I think we have some things to talk about”. I clearly remember what she said, and I somehow knew she was there to help me.

I was ridiculed by my father for crying so I never did, or at least around people and outwardly. Inside was a different story, but it was different with her. She knew how I felt inside and there was finally someone that understood me. Sometimes she just hugged me, like she knew I was hurting or troubled inside.

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More hugs for you. My dad said that his life was saved by a teacher like yours.

The unpleasantness of a person is often in direct proportion to their pain.[/quote]

Your right about behavior being a direct proportion of how you are treated. Aggression and fighting was how I reacted until the teacher spent time with me. I began to hate school until she came along and helped me work through my problems, which by then were numerous. I had also started hanging around a group of boys that were going in the wrong direction. Some of them ended up getting arrested and taking drugs.

By then my negative behaviors had become entrenched, but she didn’t give up and I think it only made her more determined. The attention she gave me was definitely more intimate than it should have been, but if it wasn’t for her, I am sure I would have ended up getting myself into a lot of trouble, and possibly even dead. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, she knew what the boys I was hanging around were capable of. She made sure I kept away from them, which I resisted strongly to at first.

It probably sounds inappropriate, but she started taking me to her house after school and I usually stayed there weekends as well. 
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