PARENTS STORIES
A Mother's Story
By Vickie Mercado
As my son, Danny, walked up to the podium, my heart was pounding. As he began to clear his throat, over and over, I wondered if he could do it. I wanted to get out of my seat to help him, but I realized he had to do it on his own. I also realized that the staff seated on the stage would not let him down, as they had not done for nine years. They would be there for him if needed.
My tears were flowing as Danny began to speak. The gym was silent as everyone strained to hear his very quiet voice. His voice became stronger as he went on and I was astonished at how great a speaker he was.
This was my "little" boy, the one they said would never talk or read. Here he was dazzling the audience with his words and his delivery. When he finished, I was astonished to see that there wasn't a dry eye in the place. And he was given a standing ovation.
Benton Hall Academy did this for us. If we had listened to the naysayers or had put him in public school where he likely would have been put into resource classes, we would never have seen this. Danny is now attending classes at Columbia State Community College. The transition has been rough, but because of coping skills he learned at Benton Hall Academy, Danny will make it.
Zoie's Story
By Susan Passi-Klaus
Benton Hall Academy was our last resort, and our second choice. I first opted for the prettily packaged school a few miles away. It looked like a well-endowed private school should look and it bore the name of a reputable and wealthy supporter. It had all the bells and whistles, including horseback riding lessons, fancy field trips and polished long hallways leading to well-furnished rooms. It smelled of new books and new opportunities. It also cost money we would never have.
Benton Hall Academy, on the other hand, was not a particularly pretty place. Yes, it had been used and re-used. Layers of years showed under thicknesses of paint. Old carpet. Old furniture. Old books. Old bathrooms. But, just like they say of old houses - the school had character. And there was nothing "tired" about the people who filled its hallways and classrooms. The staff and teachers, and of course the students, generated a welcome spirit and youthful enthusiasm that more than made up for what Benton Hall Academy lacked in visual appeal. It didn't take long before the school began to feel like a lived-in, loved-in home instead of a polished, but impersonal model school. And Zoie, who was about to leave a brand new high school facility at her other school, didn't seem to mind Benton Hall Academy and all it's bumps and bruises.
Zoie decided to begin the New Year of 2003 at Benton Hall Academy - despite an insensitive goodbye from a misguided counselor at her old school, "Oh Zoie, you don't want to go there. You're too smart. You're not like those kids." Sometimes I'm grateful my daughter chooses not to listen well.
Like my daughter, Benton Hall Academy is different. Its true colors, like hers, are revealed from the inside out. No, there's not a lot of extracurriculars, but Zoie sometimes stays after school just to talk for hours with her favorite teacher.
No, there's no Homecoming affair, but there is a prom and all high schoolers are invited (or cleverly coerced) to attend - despite the size of their prom dress or the size of their teenage bank account.
And no, there's no marching band, but there is a rock/jazz band where rebel Zoie has been able to march to the beat of her own drum set.
Zoie is happy at Benton Hall Academy. She feels safe there. Loved there. Accepted there - just as she is. (Not to mention, she's giddy that there's rarely homework).
Each year, each teenage passage, we see Zoie moving closer to understanding the responsibility she has to live up to her artistic and intellectual potential and calling. And more and more, with each hard lesson learned, we are seeing that at Benton Hall Academy Zoie has begun to recognize and connect with a world outside of her. Her world is no longer "me" vs. "them."
Would we have chosen to travel - beside our daughter - on a road so far off the beaten path? With its twists and turns and uphill climbs? No, it wasn't the path I imagined our daughter would choose to take. The other parent's grass always looks greener, doesn't it? But when I think back to where we were and how far we've come --- I thank God for the journey.
Lizzie's Story
By Elizabeth Hackett
Benton Hall Academy is not a fancy place. There are certainly not many bells and whistles of a huge campus with state of the art anything. It is a very plain school and gives the appearance of old and worn. But when you have a child that has stepped into an abyss and needs to find a way out, Benton Hall Academy is the remedy cure.
Our daughter was at the end of her rope. She felt bad about herself in every way. She was so unhappy with life and we did not know where to turn. Lindy Sayers, who is a friend and at the time a school counselor, told us about Benton Hall Academy and suggested that we take a look. Once inside the school, you begin to notice lots of smiling faces and lots of warmth. The small classes were just what Lizzie needed. It took her a while to feel comfortable with the school and herself, but she began to appear happier and more energetic.
She graduated from Benton Hall Academy four years ago as the Valedictorian and won the Thomas Hart Benton Academy Award as the most outstanding senior. Lizzie has since graduated from Emory & Henry College in Emory, Virginia and plans to attend Loyola College in Chicago this fall. She is getting her masters in Social Work.
Benton Hall Academy gave her a sense of purpose and the strength to overcome obstacles that once upon a time seemed insurmountable. She has grown into a mature and lovely young lady. We owe so much to Benton Hall Academy. There are many young people that will benefit from Benton Hall Academy and as a parent I can honestly say that we will always hold a special place in our hearts for the staff and the school. Benton Hall Academy saved our daughter's life and taught her compassion for others. To me as a mother, there is no better lesson.
