Welcome to the seventh 2015 column of “The Gender Corner,” published in collaboration with The Anguillian newspaper. We are taking a slight turn this year – still providing thought-provoking and stimulating discussion on gender-related matters – but now focusing on the real-life experiences and stories of those in our community. The goal is to break the silence about a range of issues so that we can start building a positively transformed and visionary society. This week we hear a true story from a young lady who was pregnant at 15 years old. She discusses her trials, but ultimately displays her strength and tenacity despite obstacles on her life’s journey. Here is what she has to say:
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On September 25th, 2006 I disappointed a lot of people. I remember that day well; owing to the fact that was the day the news of my pregnancy became known in the school. Becoming pregnant at fifteen was not a norm nor an expectation for an A student, member of the Debate Society, Environmental Club, school choir, steel orchestra band, national track & field and soccer team. However, I’ve learned that we are all human and capable of making mistakes, especially when suffering from young naive love.
No one saw it coming. It was around 1:25 pm and we were in the middle of our English class when two police officers stood in our doorway. “Good afternoon. Teacher, may we have a word with you on the outside please?” they politely asked as they gestured the teacher to the hallway. A sudden silence filled the room. Who? What? Where? When? Why? How? Those were just a few of the questions that I guessed clouded the thoughts of everyone left in the room.
Deep down, our hearts were pounding as the teacher came to the center of the class. Her gaze combed through the students, until her eyes stopped on me. I said to myself, “PLEASE DON’T CALL MY NAME, PLEASE DON’T CALL MY NAME.” My heart was racing and then almost came to a complete stop when she uttered those words to me and told me to “please report to the principal’s office.” I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my life. As I was escorted to the principal’s office, I felt the eyes of both students and teachers all around staring out opened windows.
When the officers told me my dad had brought them to the school I said to myself, “Why did he have to do this while I’m in school?” Trust me; he was too furious and indifferent to care about how it looked to the others. My father wanted confirmation of my pregnancy. I entered the principal’s office and saw how angry and disappointed both my father and the principal were.
My dad said really hurtful things to me that day. Some things he said to me that I’d never forget were: “You have ruined your life! You’ll end up just like your mother cleaning houses for a living and lying down with any man for money!”
He shot me down with that statement; I felt as low and small as a speck of dirt. The fact that I was doing well in my classes didn’t convince him that I wouldn’t end up like my mother. After telling me those words he stormed out as if that was it; he had washed his hands clean of me.
“What are you going to do?” I was asked. I was now faced with a decision. I decided to stay in school. “Are you sure?” they asked. “YES” I replied. I felt my friends and classmates would treat me as if nothing had changed. Boy, was I wrong! Some friends, whom I thought had my back, stopped talking to me while others talked behind my back and teased me. I was called all sorts of names; whore, slut, stinks, stupid, etc. but I toughed it out. I pushed forward and owe much thanks to one specific teacher: Mrs. Daphne Jacobs.
She was tough (some would say mean) but I called it tough love. There were times that I wanted to give up and stay home because I was falling asleep in class. I couldn’t deal with the teasing or vomiting between the classes and wanted to just end the torture, but she wouldn’t let me. She saw that I’ve always been passionate about music and that I was smart. Mrs. Jacobs said to me, “If you give up now, you’ll give up again.” I am still grateful for her encouragement.
I felt like I had to make it up to the persons I’d disappointed. Prove to them that I wasn’t going to drop out of school and be an unfit mother living in poverty. I pulled up my socks in every area that I needed to; not to be labeled as the unfit teen mom stereotype that so many probably expected. I did have my son, but I did not graduate high school. I had been sick for about 3 weeks, in and out the doctor’s office, due to some unusual pains I was feeling in my stomach during my second trimester and I wasn’t able to turn in my SBA assignment. NO SBA. NO GRADUATION.
As I reflect on my situation, I remember there were times I wanted to be invisible; wished I had powers to make myself disappear just so I wouldn’t have to face the verbal persecution of my peers or family. The first three years into motherhood I was bombarded from every angle with constant bad talk and negative wishes. I was in a depressed and low self-esteem mode for some time. People’s perceptions of me weighed heavy on my shoulders, and unfortunately this led me to drinking and smoking. At one point, I even fell into some unhealthy relationships where I became a victim of financial and psychological abuse and domestic violence. The pressure of proving my father and everyone else who agreed with him wrong got the best of me. I almost lost my life once due to drunk driving.
Things do happen and mistakes may be made in life. Sure, my father was angry and harsh towards me the day he came to my school, but his words had truth to them. He knew what struggles I would face as a teenage parent. Sadly, I continue to suffer verbal persecution but I’ve learned to channel my pain, hurt and anger into something positive.
Understand that motherhood is not an easy task; nor is it a job to be taken lightly. This story should not encourage young girls to follow in my footsteps, but to those who are in my situation I want to say, “Press forward.” Do whatever you deem right to ensure your child is equipped with the necessary tools needed for a good life.
Trust me, teenage pregnancy is no walk in the park. This I know to be true.
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If you’d like to contribute your experiences to The Gender Corner, feel free to email Dr. Ronya Foy Connor, Gender Development Coordinator, Ministry of Home Affairs, The Valley, or to Ronya.Foy-Connor@gov.ai. or call at 497-2518. Your story can help to encourage someone else.
