I have this student, I'll call him Billy (not his real name). He is eleven and is another child who has been through a very stressful time. His mother was an alcoholic. Billy grew up having to become very observant (He can spot a pencil out of place on someone's desk). When he came into my class two years ago (I have the students from fourth to sixth grade), he was adamant that 'he didn't need these helper classes.' He came over to me and very confidently explained that he had been placed in the wrong class. I told him to give it a week to see how it goes. He thought for a minute and then agreed he'd try it for a week. He never brought it up, again, so I guess he decided to stay. :)
Anyway, he would come in and talk about his mother. Sometimes he would just blurt things out in class like, "My mom said she was going to the store today, but I know she's going to buy alcohol. I know that purse she uses to put the alcohol in and she had that on the table this morning." Or he would come back to my desk, needing to talk and then tell me how he had watched her in the living room, and he knew she had put something in there, and he checked when she left, and found a bottle of alcohol in the coffee table drawer. Though he didn't know it, I was relating to everything he was saying. I understood his anxiety and dread. I understood the panic he felt when he told about how his mom and he went to buy clothes, but he knew the liquor store was near by and that she was going to go in. He came to school one day, and again blurted out, "My mom said she has the flu. Yeah, she has the flu, the booze flu!" He was definitely upset by her addiction. He loved his mom, but he was so angry at her, too. In the spring, his mother suddenly died one morning. She must have been drinking. He told me later, through sobs and tears, that he went into the kitchen that morning, and his mother said to him, "What are you doing up so early you little sh**? Go back to bed." So, he did. Those were the last words she spoke to him. When he got up, again, she was dead. This mother loved her child. She sent in notes to me and was interested in how Billy was doing and did what she could to help. She did the best she could. The addiction just did better.
Lying is becoming an issue at school. So, a few weeks ago, during first period, I talked with my students about being honorable. We listed some honorable traits: trustworthy, kind, honest, selfless, giving, patient. I was very proud of them for knowing what these traits were. During that conversation, and I can't remember how exactly it came up, one of the students commented on being a 'drunk' when you grow up; that it is not honorable. Another student confirmed that belief, using the word 'drunk' to describe someone, an uncle, I think. This term, 'drunk' was making me uncomfortable. I glanced over at Billy, and he was just staring at his desk. I was going to comment on the term 'drunk' when he blurts out, "You know, I really don't like when they say 'drunk'. My mom drank and I just don't like that term!" "You're right, Billy, it's not a nice term. It's name calling, and that is not honorable." "Yeah. And I don't know why my mom had to do that. And she's dead." "Billy, your mom loved you a lot." "Then why did she drink?" "Because she was sad and people handle being sad in different ways. She was doing the best that she could. Does everyone see why name calling is so hurtful? Should you call people names like that?" In unison: "NO." "Good, then, no more name calling."
Labels we use for people can be just more technical forms of name calling. When working with students who have special needs, this becomes very clear. To look at Billy, you would think he may perseverate on some things, but otherwise, he is a friendly, likable child. He has Asperger's; he is on the high functioning end of the autism spectrum. He gets very upset if he hears the word autism. He needs reassurance that he is not labeled autistic. He wants to be normal, and a label like that would take him out of normal and plop him into abnormal territory. I'm leaving that up to his dad. To me, drunk is just as hurtful as any other label. Addict. Lazy. Loser. All of those tags that go along with addiction, cut into my heart every time I hear people flippantly blurt out a comment involving what they think about a situation of which they have little or no understanding. I know, first hand, the beautiful lives that are crushed by addiction. Like calling a person retarded is wrong, so is calling a person with an alcohol addiction, a drunk and drug addiction a junkie. They are people. They are brothers and sisters. Daughters and sons. Husbands and wives. How cruel to think that because someone is struggling, in a socially unacceptable way, that it is okay to make a judgement or worse, make fun. As it turns out, sticks and stones will break your bones and names do end up hurting.
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