| What They Didn’t Know | They thought she was a boy. Morgan’s mismatched clothes, outgrown bowl haircut, and secondhand sneakers hid every detail of who she was. The kids had ignored her since long before they were old enough to form the cliques they now claimed, and the teachers were indifferent, the by-product of a system where everyone did the least they were required to do to get by, and it was allowed. For years they thought she was mute or dumb. Few had ever heard her speak. Many had seen her sign to her grandmother at the curb when she was dropped off, but none had bothered to find out why. The administration knew her story but was too overburdened to share it or try to draw her out of the hard, little shell she had erected around herself. No one had seen her father in years though they knew he was around. No one knew who her mother was. Morgan was just another kid to everyone around her. It was high school before anyone saw anything more. Miss Foster, the music teacher, looked at Morgan suspiciously as she walked down the hall past her room. Someone had been humming. The Doppler effect of the sound had grown and faded with Morgan’s course. Could it be? She wondered out loud to her empty classroom. She simply had to know. Not that her workload was less than anyone else’s, she went out of her way to find out more about the introverted child. Her heart cleaved and broke to read the story. Morgan had been born a twin. Her mother had not survived the birth. A brother no one seemed to know about was impaired and in a home with others of his abilities, so he could have the roundthe-clock care that was needed. Morgan lived with her father, but he worked two jobs to keep his son in the facility and a home for him and his daughter. Notes from registration and previous conferences about Morgan revealed that the grandmother was deaf and mute but also a primary caregiver, making sure Morgan went to school and was fed while her father worked. Other notes indicated that while Morgan could speak and was quite bright, she just communicated better with American Sign Language 88 | btsemag.com
than words. The music teacher could not imagine it and determined upon closing the file that this could not be the end of the story for this girl. She watched Morgan for several weeks, waiting until just before fall break to approach her. “Morgan Gaffen,” Miss Foster called quietly from her doorway. Morgan stopped but did not respond or immediately turn. Her inset eyes were wide and conveyed more than a little fear as she turned halfway at the calling of her name. “I’m Miss Foster, Erin Foster. I’m the music teacher here.” It was said with careful quiet phrasing. “I understand that you know sign language.” Morgan only nodded in response. Her guard was still quite obviously raised in silent alarm. “Can I talk to you? I have an idea, but I really need some help. I think you might be able to help me.” Erin continued, watching Morgan carefully as each word registered. When Morgan stood still but didn’t move to get away, Erin pushed a little further. “Would you like to come in and sit down?” Morgan drew back but didn’t step back. Erin didn’t want to rush her, so she amended her request. “Or we can stand here too if that’s more comfortable.” Morgan nodded. Erin thought she heard an okay squeak out, but it was so soft she couldn’t be sure. Standing in the hallway just beyond her room, she presented her idea. “I’d like to have someone sign the songs and stories for the Winter Festival.” Morgan’s eyes were again wide but from interest more than fear this time. No one had ever asked her to participate in anything. Skepticism crept up. She had come to the festival for years through grade school and middle school, no one had ever signed before that she could remember. Why would they start now, and why ask her? Erin didn’t miss the change of emotion flash across Morgan’s usually stoic face. “There is a class of deaf children at one of the grade schools. They are never invited to the festival performance because they cannot hear it.” She shrugged. “I