A Girl On Mute: My Story

For about four years I wouldn’t talk to anyone but my family. Some people tried to pressure me to talk and failed. It’s not the fact that I was shy like everyone thought. I may have been a little shy, but in the end, I just felt like I couldn’t talk. My throat would instantly dry up and was sore.

Kindergarten was the first year in elementary school I would not talk. I would stand on my toes and whisper in my teacher’s ear if I had something I needed to say. It was the year where I met two of my friends Daniel and Victoria that were in my class. There were the only one that accepted that I didn’t talk and never pressured me to. They were the first two friends I ever spoke to from school, but the only time I ever spoke to them was at one of their houses or mine. My least favorite part of kindergarten was when I was forced to see the school psychologist. She used to pull me out of class when we had free time to play a few times, and honestly it was just a waste of time. Every time I was asked a question I just shrugged my shoulders. Kindergarten pretty much ended with the school psychologist giving up on trying to get me to talk.

I don’t remember much that happened in first grade, but I do remember a situation that happened at the end of the year with my mom and my teacher. My mom had argued with the teacher at the end of the year because my teacher did not like me and would always get frustrated that I would never talk. She attempted to keep me back a year, but when my mom found out she had argued with my teacher not to keep me back. My mom kept arguing with her that if I get held back I will be more regressed since I will be with a different group of people that I didn’t really know. My mom eventually won the argument leaving my first-grade teacher not happy with me.

Soon enough second grade started and that was the year was the year that completely changed my life. It all started with me sitting in my second-grade teacher Ms. Estevez’s class in Frank K. Hehnly, Elementary School getting ready to watch one of the Madagascar movies. Right as the movie started I was being signed out. I packed my bag and walked down to the office to see my mom. I followed to her to her dark green Oldsmobile Silhouette van. I opened the door and saw my American Girl doll I named Flower sitting in my seat buckled in. I knew that something was up because my mom never brings anything in the car as a surprise for me, especially when she picks me up from school. My mom never told me where we were going, she actually refused to tell me. After five minutes had past, I knew I wasn’t going to the dentist because we drove past the office or to my regular doctor since it was the opposite direction. The entire car ride I hugged my doll. About twenty minutes later we finally arrived at a building I’ve never been to before. I hopped out of the car squeezing my arm around Flower, scared to go in the building. I stared at the blank white walls, shaking and wondering why I was signed out of school to be in this building. After a while my mom and I were led into another room and sat in the chairs by the table in the middle of the room waiting. The walls in that room were also blank, but the only difference about this room was that there was a toy box in the corner. The only thing going through my mind was that I wanted to be back at school watching Madagascar instead of the building I was currently in. I hugged my doll and finally, after a while, a man came in the room. I just sat there quietly, hugging my doll and staring at the floor. My mom and the man were talking. She explained that I don’t talk in school, except for whisper in the teacher’s ear. He tried talking to me and asked questions, but I just stared at the bright white tiled floor. This is when I realized that it was pretty much kindergarten all over again with the school psychologist which I was not happy about at all. After a while talking to my mom I heard him say that he would stand outside of the room to see if I will talk. When he walked out I didn’t say a word. I was trying to figure out if he thought I was dumb or not. I heard him say he was going to stand outside the door; I don’t understand why he thought I would talk if I knew he was out there.

The thing is I did not understand what was wrong with me not talking in school; I didn’t think it mattered. Minutes later he came back in, talked to my mom for quite some time, and at that point I had toned them out, wanting to leave. When I finally started paying attention, all I heard were the words Selective Mutism. He explained that selective mutism is a social anxiety disorder that makes someone unable to speak or communicate in a social setting. He said that being mute was the only way that most people can manifest the anxiety or fear of social interaction. I didn’t understand what he meant; I thought it was a disease I could can get medicine to feel better like everyone gets from the doctor. But I was seven years old, so I pretty much would never have known what it meant.

A few days after seeing the psychologist, my mom had a meeting with my teacher about what happened at the psychologist. Ever since the meeting, she would try to get me to whisper during class every day. It didn’t work because every time she asked me to, I shook my head no. I thought she gave up because she stopped trying to get me to whisper for a while, and that was also when kids in my class were starting to pressure me to start talking. They didn’t know pressuring me to talk made me more and more nervous to. Months later Ms. Estevez called on me to answer a math problem, but I didn’t say anything. She said that she would throw an ice cream party if I whispered the answer. The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. I debated for a few minutes while everyone stared at me but being a seven-year-old who loves ice cream, I decided to say the answer. Ms. Estevez had a smile on her face, and the entirely class started cheering. If it wasn’t for Ms. Estevez I probably still wouldn’t be talking in school. Without overcoming my selective mutism, I would not have the friends I currently have or opportunities I have had growing up, I probably still would not be talking. My selective Mutism has helped me become a good listener. It also has helped me educate others who have never heard of selective mutism. Even though I now talk in school, the social anxiety still affects me because whenever I am near someone I do not know I do not talk and I avoid them and conversations. My social anxiety also affects me when I have to present in front of a group of people, before I have to present I refuse to talk or engage in conversations, and while I present I struggle to make eye contact with anyone, I start talking fast and sometimes stutter.