There are many moments that I hold dearly from my teaching  career.

Little Jennifer using PECs for the first time to communicate with me that she needed the toilet, hearing her say her first word when reading the hungry caterpillar. Declan’s mum crying in my office when he had been invited to his first birthday party at the age of 9 after being in my class for a week. Simon, one of my KS4 students ordering coffee at Costa independently for the first time. My KS4 students completing their work experience week. Taking my KS1 class to Legoland and the pure joy that I witnessed them all experience. The list could go on.

But amongst those beautiful moments there were painful, heartbreaking moments that I will equally never forget. Stories that are etched into my mind for the rest of time. 

Harriet was 14 when she was diagnosed with Autism. Her whole life she had been described as anxious, quiet, an ‘emotional wee thing’ and had been diagnosed with various mental health conditions. She struggled in school and her attendance had been fluctuating.

After years of fighting, Harriet finally received her Autism diagnosis. Two days later her teacher announced to the whole form class that Harriet was Autistic. Without permission and without consent. This lead to Harriet being purposefully isolated from friendship groups and physically bullied to the point her wrist was broken. 

When Harriet came to our school it wouldn’t be dramatic to say she was a shell of a girl. She would walk around school with her hair fully over her face, she would barely say a word to anyone.

Two months into attending our school Harriet had become attached to another girl and started mimicking her behaviour, which included smoking,drinking and bullying others in the school. Harriet started to aggressively interact with other young people in the school and became an individual with whom the adults were finding challenging to support. Harriet’s language became very dark and it was clear that Harriet was deeply struggling with her mental health. 

Harriet’s and my journey began the year I started teaching in KS4. She was on my class list and our initial interactions were far from positive. Harriet had been separated from this other girl and they were now not in the same class, she hated being in school and refused to participate in any activity. Every suggestion of work moment was met with ‘That’s stupid’ ‘I can’t because I am Autistic’ or silence. Harriet was battling with her brain everyday, her anxiety held her captive, her past trauma from school and home life haunted her and she started reaching extreme and crisis moment measures. 

I get emotional sharing Harriet’s story because I would lie awake at night worried I wouldn’t see her the next, concerned that I wasn’t providing enough support. But slowly the change started to come.

As a class team and a school we invested a lot of 1.1 time with Harriet. I would go as far to say I didn’t meet the ‘real’ Harriet until 3 months into teaching her. The relationship had been formed, the mask came off and I started to journey through pain and trauma with Harriet.  We started working on self acceptance and self confidence and over time Harriet became a thriving individual. Holding down a part time job in our school cafe, leading lunch time art clubs for primary aged children, going to concerts with her friends and being an advocate for herself. 

In all honesty, Harriet is one of the reasons I left teaching.

I remember like it was yesterday, sitting with Harriet having our coffee time together like I did with all my class, providing 1.1 time for them in the busyness of a week. We sat and as our time came to an end and Maths lesson was looming, she started sharing a moment of abuse she had experienced when she was a child. She had never told anyone before and all of a sudden the puzzle pieces fell into place. However as I listened and my heart broke, my brain also thought ‘I have a whole class waiting for their maths lesson to start’.

At that moment I knew I had to leave teaching. Quite frankly I didn’t care if my KS4 young people knew fractions. I deeply cared about their wellbeing as individuals, about their mental health journeys and helping them thrive in any space they walk into. I deeply cared about their safety and their self acceptance. Harriet’s story is one of hope. The end of her story could have been very different but with time, understanding and care from many people in her lives Harriet is thriving as an individual.