A Sensitive Soul

He is the least talkative in his class of half a dozen students.  In the few times I have subbed for the aide in the class, I’ve not seen him become upset or angry.  I have seldom, though, seen a smile on his face or heard him laugh.

The challenge for the teacher and aides is getting him to “talk”.  He will not speak up if he needs something such as a piece of paper, or crayons, or even permission to go to the bathroom.  Whatever he does to occupy his time at home, he does it alone.  When he comes back to school after the weekend, he’s back to being almost mute.  It takes near the middle of the week to get him back to talking.  Then, the weekend and come another Monday, he has to be coached to talk all over again.

If he feels he is being scolded for anything, no matter how slight it might be, he will shut down.  I understood all too well.  I was so much like that myself when I was his age.  I wish I would outgrow it but haven’t yet.  I’m 58 and so who knows?  If I should live so long, maybe I will.

 

 

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