The Silence in Trust; a Personal Essay

A/N: All names, except for mine, have been changed for confidentiality purposes. What people have said may not be exactly what they said, but it is very close as I basing this off of my memories.

I wrote this for a contest on Wattpad back in 2015.

The Silence in Trust

The music starts, being played by theschools music teacher, Mr. Jenkins, and the students file in. She isclose to the front, maybe twenty students back. The boys around herare rowdy and the girls gossip, she stays quiet and does not becomeinvolved in what the others are doing. The church is filled withparents, siblings and grandparents. The sea of black gowns becomeslarger as all of the students take a seat. The moment is suspenseful,everyone waiting for the last student to be seated. The last note ofpachebel canon lingers in the air and the ceremony begins.

I stand in the corner of the room,twenty five four year olds rushing around me. A girl and a boy walkup to me, “want to play with us?” I nod my head, not speaking tothem or anyone else for the whole day and later on the whole yeargoes by and I only a say few words when the pressure becomes too muchand no one understands. The same happens year after year. I was toldwhen I was a young child what it was I had. The words had no meaningto me when I was that young, not understanding what they meant. But Ido. “You have selective mutism.”

The principal, Mr.Heath, stands on the stage next to the diplomas. The religion and lawteacher, Mr. Borden, who she had had for three classes, steps up tothe podium with small papers, each of them has a students name onthem along with information about their plans for the next year andtheir future endeavors.

The anxiety sets in as I standbehind the curtain, waiting for my name to be announced. I bend myankles, testing the tightness of the laces on my figure skates.Taking a few deep breathes I try to calm myself, focusing on thechanges that were made to ensure I could skate the program in the newskates. My name is called and I skate to my starting spot. The musicstarts and I focus on the program and let the thoughts fly out of mymind, it is only me and the music. The last note is hit and I end theprogram, the applause commences and I leave the ice surface, hearingthe announcer talking about all of the things I have accomplishedthat skating season. The biggest one being the completion of myCanSkate coaches certified status (Skate Canada’s lowest level isCanSkate with PreCanSkate being a stepping stone into CanSkate but isa apart of the CanSkate program and coach training). I didn’t let myselective mutism or anxiety stop me from figure skating or attainingthe status of a coach.

She is next inline, waiting for her name to be called. The anxiety sets in and shenervously stands as the time approaches. The girl before her descendsthe stage and strides back to the seats. The teacher turns back tothe microphone, “Elizabeth Charlebois. She...” walking in herheels like professional, she starts for the stage.

The first day of second semesterstarts. My first class is musical theater pit band. All of thestudents in it have been in my music class. The music books arequite thick and we start thinking, why did I choose to take thisclass? The class consisted ofeight students, three grade twelves and five grade elevens, thenthere was the music teacher and a student from the graduating classthe year before who volunteered to help. That put the band at tenpeople. It doesn’t seem like a lot of people when ten people andtheir instruments have to fit in the pit and spend hours in anenclosed space together, it is more than plenty. The one guy, James,comes up to me one day, “We’ve been in the same class for fouryears and we’ve never had a conversation,” this was the start of aweird friendship. My selective mutism is based on trust, so itstarted off hard for James to get me to speak to him. By the end ofthe semester, we were making fun of each other and annoying oneanother. He earned my trust.

“...will be attending university in the fall at York University intheir linguistics and language studies program. In the future shewants to be a speech pathologist.”

Isit at the computer contemplating what I want to do after school. Iscan through lists of jobs and take many quizzes. Teacher, no; toomany people want to be a teacher and no jobs are available. Doctor,no; I don’t feel comfortable taking someone’s life into my own handsand I wouldn’t be able to cut someone open and see all of the bloodwith out getting nauseous. Veterinarian, no; again too many peoplewant to be one, the grades needed are crazy high and seeing all ofthe blood would make me nauseous. Then I come to speech pathology. Ido well with languages, it is interesting and the programs that canbe taken are not dull. The weird thing is, I saw a speech pathologistwhen I was a kid and interacting with people would be against myselective mutism. But I was overcoming my selective mutism. I trustedpeople with more ease. It doesn’t hinder me as much.

She sits back down. The ceremony goes on, all one hundred and fiftystudents receive their diplomas. James is beside her. He startsnudging her. She looks at him and asks, “What?” in a whisper.They go back and forth saying “what?” until James asks, “Youwant to fight?“. She looks at him with a strange look and replies,“no”. The ceremony carries on and awards and bursaries are handedout. The final speeches are given, the valedictorian says her speechand then the principal gives the final speech. At the end of thespeech everyone claps and leaves. Students return their gowns andsocialize with their friends and teachers. When she tells Mr. Jenkinsabout what James was doing through the ceremony, he tells that sheshould have drop kicked him. Laughing, she shakes her head and walksback to mother and her friend Rachel.

She will always have to deal with selective mutism but she has doneso much that helped her see that it does not have to define who sheis keep her from participating in events and activities that shelikes. It is continuous and she will always have to deal with herselective mutism. Right now, life seems broad and never ending, likethe ocean, but all things must come to an end. The horizon is scaryand will never be clear to what is leading to.

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