Twenty-six and the phone call

My phone rang one night at about 9:00. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was local to the city, so I answered in case it was the parent or guardian of a student. It wasn’t a parent, though; it was a student.

Twenty-six sounded frantic. She told me that she and her mother had taken in another student who had been kicked out of her house. It’s actually not that uncommon in my experience for children to need a place to go to get away from disappointing or dangerous or even retaliatory behaviors, so I wasn’t sure what the issue was. Then Twenty-six explained that the other girl’s mother had called their house and threatened to call the Department of Youth Services, DYS, and report Twenty-Six’s mother if they didn’t send her daughter home.

Twenty-six was calling to see what they could do. Sadly, I had to tell her there was nothing they could do other than bring her friend back to her mother.

I thought that was the end of it, but about a half an hour later my phone rang again. Twenty-six sounded half hysterical. I could tell she was crying, and she made little sense at first. When I finally understood what she was telling me, I wasn’t sure what to do. She was in a cab with her friend and her mother, bringing her friend home. When they pulled up to the house, the friend’s mother was waiting outside. She had opened the car door and reached in and grabbed her daughter by the hair and tried to pull her out of the cab. Her daughter put up a fight and Twenty-six wanted me to do something about it.

I’ve never felt so powerless. I told Twenty-six to call the police and tell them what was happening. I told her I would call the Department of Youth Services and report that I had been given information about a student and wanted to file a report.

Twenty-six never brought it up at school and I didn’t either because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel like I was prying. I never found out what happened to the friend, or the charges that the angry mother threatened to file. I think that may be the hardest part of working with teenagers, sometimes you don’t get to know what happens after your involvement is over. I’m sure DYS investigated my report, and I’m sure the police sent someone to investigate the call Twenty-six made…I’m just not sure what the outcome was.

Which is the lesson I learned from twenty-six and her mother. Sometimes it has to be enough to know that you have done your best. That you have followed the rules and that they won’t take you as far as you want to go, but that you have to trust in the protocols of agencies that have far more resources than you ever will and have a right to know the sensitive information that comes from these kinds of investigations. Conceivably one of the hardest lessons I’ve ever had to learn, but also one of the most important. It isn’t about me and what I want to know, it’s about a child and their right to privacy and their right to get the help they need. Thank you for teaching me what my boundaries should be Twenty-six.