Rae’s Story

Before I jump into Rae’s story, I want to thank you for your patience. I recently directed a middle school production and have been incredibly busy with work, directing, and being a mother. The good news is that I am back! Get ready for weekly blog posts to return, as well as some special media appearances on podcasts. My story is reaching new audiences, which excites me. Though it can be scary and vulnerable to share this part of my life, it has been incredibly rewarding to know that it is making a real difference. 

Speaking of stories, today I want to share Rae’s. Rae is a woman I have met through social media. When it works like this, social media can be a powerful tool for connection. As I began sharing my story, others with similar stories began to reach out to me in my DMs. One of these women suggested a support group on Facebook for victims of educator misconduct. Upon joining, I found an immediate connection with others like me. Others, including Rae.

Rae met her teacher, whom we’ll call Nick, when she was in middle school. He was her science teacher at the time. Rae remembers him as the “cool” teacher. His casual, fun nature drew kids to him. This is a trait I have discussed often on my page. While it can be positive to form meaningful connections with students, I also believe that we need to be cautious when we notice a teacher being relaxed with their students. 

When Rae advanced to high school, so did Nick. He took a position teaching at the high school. Rae recalls this as the beginning of a shift in their relationship. Nick was the same age as her older brother and began to act as one to her. They became friends, in a way. She remembers referring to him as her best friend, which happens to mimic my own story. Often, these relationships begin as friendships. I will remind us all, friendships between teachers and students are not appropriate. Period. This is where it should be stopped. Unfortunately, it rarely is. 

Throughout her freshman year, her relationship with Nick progressed. They would hang out. First, in his classroom after school. Then, outside of school. Through emails and proximity, they became closer. She remembers the day she ate lunch in his room. He pulled out a guitar and sang to her a song that included her name in the lyrics. He came to her place of worship to attend events, another striking similarity to my own story. When a teacher begins to infiltrate a student’s personal life, we have to pay attention. Why? Because of stories like Rae’s and like mine.

When she returned her sophomore year, Nick embraced her. He squeezed her tight and moaned as he swayed her in his arms. This, Rae notes, was the beginning of his blatant, inappropriate behavior. She remembers feeling the discomfort. She knew something was wrong, but dismissed her own gut. Why? Because this was a man she had learned to trust. This is the danger of power. 

The relationship ended abruptly when he was removed from his position. Rae would later discover that this was because of the nature of their relationship. Though he attempted to remain in contact, the relationship fizzled. 

When asked how we, as adults, can protect our children, Rae said, “Keep an eye out for adults who take up too much space in your child’s life. It’s okay to have mentors and important adults who care about a child; it’s not okay for them to be your child’s entire world. That’s a huge red flag.”

Rae wishes others understood that the damage of grooming and misconduct lasts into adulthood. Furthermore, the absence of sexual abuse does not equal an absence of damage in a child’s life. Grooming is abuse, too. This is a truth I know all too well. This is also my purpose. We have to talk about the way inappropriate relationships between students and teachers can cause real, lasting damage. While adults may be capable of processing a power dynamic, children are not. We are left to sort through a very confusing relationship, one that was once built on what we believed to be deserved trust. We thought we were special. We built ourselves around their direction. Then, as adults, we are left to confront the reality that what we experienced was not love, but something darker. 

Rae has found healing while telling her story through art. She has been processing her story through music and writing. Much like me, she finds peace in sharing her story. It’s a peace that comes with purpose. We know the importance. We have found each other through sharing our stories. For me, reading Rae’s story, I found a connection to the way she felt. Every time I hear a story like mine, I feel less crazy. I feel less obsessed. I feel less at fault. I can see that we all share such similar feelings, that we all have this lasting trauma, and that none of this is our fault. 

I hope you will find the importance in Rae’s story. Read it, share it, talk about it, and let it become something important. We hope you will use stories like ours to inspire meaningful discussion and lasting change.