As a mother, I’m right now navigating the hardest moment with my two daughters and my son … I was raped at 15 and molested by a teacher from 15–16 … it took 13 years of fighting before I saw any justice for those crimes and it paled in comparison to having to live with that trauma for the last 25 years. I thought I had moved past it for the most part, thanks to supportive family and lots of counseling and medication to treat my treatment resistant depression I’ve struggled over the last 25 years. I will be 40 this year. My son, the oldest, turned 15 this year … the same age I was when it began. I see how young he is and recognized for the first time just how young I had been when I was abused. That was really hard for me, emotionally. Now, I look at my two girls, ages 9 and 3, and worry for their safety - probably more than I should, but understandable given what I went through. We have had lots of “body safety” talks and my older daughter understands the very basics of what I went through, mainly because I have spent a great part of this past year writing a memoir about my experiences and have begun speaking publicly about what I went through and what it means to be a survivor. This is challenging because it’s hard to talk about and explain to a child in a way that they understand without making them fear the world. I struggle with this often. I’ve chosen to use it as an opportunity to teach them about activism and the power of speaking the truth, what it means to be a survivor instead of a victim. I hope they grow up and see just how strong their mother is and how she has worked in the community to raise awareness and help others. How long will she write memoirs about her rape and life? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - Just one day of writing. - Just two days worth of writing. - Many years as a form of healing. - not enough information
not enough information

Ok, this one is not missing a class but much better story IMO. When I was in middle school, if you didn’t have homework completed or goofed off in some way, teachers could make you stay after school for ‘after school help.’ It was essentially a mandatory study hall and if a teacher called you out, you had no choice in the matter. Now, I was in Biology class towards end of my middle school career and was sitting at one of those lab tables next to another student. We both had newspaper routes (yes, people actually delivered actual newspapers to people’s homes in the 1980s), so it would make us late for our deliveries if we were made to stay after school. This biology teacher would check our vocabulary assignment every week and I totally spaced it this week - Oh Crap! Now, my lab mate had most of his done, but just didn’t quite finish. Our teacher is working his way around the classroom checking assignments. So, he checks my lab partner, “well Scott, looks like you will be staying after school today.” This fellow student knew I didn’t have mine either, but also knew I was a pretty good student. I feel like I am sweating bullets and trembling as the teacher approaches me. In a near panic, I reach into my folder and pull out a prior week’s assignment. He looks it over and says “OK, good job” or something like that. Scott is looking at me in utter disbelief. Even funnier was the fact that this week’s assignment required 6–7 pages of paper to complete. The one I had blindly grabbed from folder had 2 pages, with barely anything in second page. It was totally obvious what I had done, but our teacher gave me a break that day. I managed to make it thru all three years without needing any ‘after school help!’ This was a large public school and they still paddled students if the infraction was serious enough. I know none of that is allowed these days, but those were both good deterrents for me!! Why was the author scared? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - because he did not finish his assignment. - because he is scared of after school care help. - not enough information - because he didn't want to be embarrassed
because he did not finish his assignment.

Sondra arrived at 1:00 PM sharp. Billy-Eye's Arcade and Dance Barn was located on Highway 87, north of town. She was not impressed. It was nothing but a huge commercial metal building with the name painted in big lettering across the front. There were about fifteen cars in the small gravel parking lot--mostly older models like hers. She walked in, and saw a line of people standing at a closed office door. Clearly, they were band members waiting to register for an audition. A couple of the guys had their electric guitars strapped on their backs. Sondra was quite familiar with Billy-Eye and his two sons. She'd eaten her share of Buttard Biscuits growing up. And she still remembered the time in high school when Craig walked up to her in the hallway and asked her for a date. She had nearly laughed in his face. He was just a kid--three grades below her. A couple of years later, when she found out about his reputation as a stud, she wished she had accepted his offer. She would have given the little punk the ride of his life. While she was still thinking about Craig, the office door opened, and he walked out. He glanced at the long line of rockers. "Okay, we're about to get started, Guys." Then he spotted Sondra at the back of the line. The blonde six-footer was not easy to miss. "Sondra Crench? Is that you?" He walked up to her. "How are you, Craig?" "Well, I'm impressed that you remember me. So, you're here to sign up?" "Yeah." He checked out the young men standing in front of her. "Are these guys with you?" "No." "Well, where's your band?" "I'm working on it." "Follow me." She hesitated. There were at least thirty people in front of her in line. "Come on," he insisted. She followed him into the office. Sondra waited in line probably for Pick the correct answer from the following options: - an hour - 5 hours - not enough information - a few minutes
a few minutes

Some years ago a woman on our staff came into my office to, basically, tell me off and complain to me about others and about myself. This woman had not been very supportive of me in my role ever since I began working there. I couldn’t figure out if she was arrogant or lacking in self esteem. During this meeting / confrontation, she told me, in no uncertain terms, just what she didn’t like about some recent decisions I had made. I listened to her speak for about 30 minutes. She, quite methodically, tore me apart. Initially, I had planned to hear her out, make a few vague remarks, and send her on her way, thinking that maybe she just needed to be heard. But about 20 minutes into her harangue, I had a change of heart. I decided that, if she asked for a response for me, if she asked my advice, I was going to tell her exactly what I thought. She did, in fact, ask me for a response. I asked her if she was a happy person, and said that I suspected that she was not, as she came across as a bully and was acting like a horrible person. She sat and looked at me, then burst into tears. I waited. Looking up, she said, “Yes, you are correct. I am a horrible person. And I am miserable. What can I do?” We spent some time discussing what she could do, and (even though I didn’t want to take the time to do it) I asked her if she would like a mentor — me? She said that she would like such a thing. This woman and I ended up becoming fairly, no, very good friends and she has been one of my strongest supporters. I didn’t expect that. Why did the woman act like a bully and a horrible person? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - because she was miserable - because she was crying - because she wanted a mentor - not enough information

because she was miserable