It was more than 30 years ago…but when I tell someone my story it feels like it could have been yesterday.  My heart still races, the hairs on the back of my neck still stand up, and I remember that I was scared.  …and alone …because this was a teacher that all the kids loved, and he was my friend…and he thought I was smart and special…and I didn't feel like such an outsider when I was around him…and that's exactly how he wanted me to feel. I was 10 years old.

I remember going down into the school basement with him during lunch to work on a special project – and that the only reason he ended up getting caught is because I didn't want to go back down there again the next day – so I asked my best friend – one of my only friends to go with me.  And she didn't want to go.  Because it turned out we had more in common than we knew. And I remember the talk spread around the schoolyard so fast – I don't know how people found out – and principal called us into her office one at a time and accused us of making up stories…with the teacher sitting right across the table from me…and all I could do was cry. How an educator could be that uneducated is beyond me.

If the principal hadn't kept me so late from school that I missed the bus and she had to drive me home, I don't know that I would have ever told anyone what happened. I was only in elementary school, and for the first time in my life I had just been sent to the principal’s office. But it turned out I didn’t have a choice…my older sister saw me get out of the principal’s car…and she convinced me to tell her what happened…and she told my parents. 

To this day I am grateful to my parents for how they handled everything although. I did get help. But I will never forget it was a brutal time in my life – not just the experience, but the aftermath…both immediate, (dealing with the school board hearing and the newspaper article and the kids that "knew") and the long term impact it had on my relationships.  And every once in a while – it resurfaces and I deal with it again. Time doesn’t heal all wounds – some it just makes hurt less.

If any of you are going through this with your child, I urge you to get them help – it made a world of difference for  me.  And if the first person they talk to doesn’t work out, try someone else. And if you need someone to talk to, to help you understand the perspective of a child who lived this – or if you just want someone to listen – I am here. …We are here.

Unfortunately there are way too many of us out here who know way too much about this.   Sending love and hope…Stefanie