Post by chloeann on Sept 21, 2011 17:18:39 GMT -6
CHLOE-ANN FELICITY HAWTHORNE
FULL NAME: Chloe-Ann Felicity Hawthorne (formerly Michaels)
BIRTHDATE: January 4, 1982
AGE: 28
SUBJECT: Science
YEARS TEACHING: None, is just starting.
YEARS AT BLACKWOOD: None, has only been at Blackwood for about 2 months.
HEALTH CONDITIONS: Back aches from her pregnancies, they make it a little difficult for her to do heavy lifting (anything heavier than a small child), though she tries to hide it; ovarian cysts; is four months pregnant with her fifth child (courtesy of her ex-husband); recently healed broken arm; occasionally faints (when pregnant) generally due to over-taxing herself or not eating enough
ADDITIONAL: was married once before, but left her abusive husband after he hit one of their sons. She has four children, all boys. First are the eight year old identical twins, Matthew and Nathan, then Aaron, who is six years old and autistic, and then Nicholas, the baby of the family at a year old. Her twenty-five year old sister, Laura, lives with her, helping her to take care of her kids. With a bit of help from their father, they bought a house in the town, to help them start over. Her ex-husband wouldn't let her work, so she's been a stay at home mom, and is new to teaching. (Divorce is still not finalized, just going through the final processes.)
“Why did you decide to go into teaching?”
I didn't want to be a teacher. At least, not at first. You see, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a scientist. I wanted to make great discoveries, and to have my own laboratory. My dad always encouraged that. He got me a chemistry set, science books, and even a lab coat. I had this tree house, and I turned it into my lab... I felt so cool. But in high school, I met a man. His name was Ryan, and... He was so charming. I was just a dorky little science geek, mocked by most of my classmates, and ignored by the rest. But he was so different. Where I was a geek, he was popular. He had good looks, talent, brains... There didn't seem to be anything missing. I felt so special that he was interested in me. We started dating in my junior year of high school. After graduation, we got married, and went to college together. I was going to be a science major, and try to pursue my dreams. He talked me out of it, though, and convinced me to become a teacher. At the time, he said it was in concern for me, and how I would fare in the long run. Now, though, I realize it was because he didn't want an intelligent, independent wife. He wanted me dependent on him, and with only a teaching degree, he thought I'd be less able to take care of myself.
“What can you offer the school?”
I know I'm not the most experienced teacher. After graduating, I became a stay at home mother for my boys. But... I'm good at science. It's what I know. And I've had experience with children who have problems. One of my sons has autism. He requires a lot of attention and care, and I can easily apply that to students as well. Beyond that, I've got a lot of experience in childcare, and taking care of teenagers. I did some student teaching for a while, but not very long. However, I did very well with the little time I did do that. I actually enjoyed it. And I enjoy what I do. Isn't that important, to help these kids? If teachers don't enjoy what they do, are they going to be as good of a teacher?
“Why do you want to work with troubled youth?”
I suppose that's an easier question. I like helping people. I've been hurt in the past, and I know some of these kids have too. I don't want others to suffer the way I have. My husband tried to break me. And he didn't. He couldn't. I want these kids to know that even though things seem bad... There is always a light at the end of the tunnel. And there is always someone who will help them. I'm happy to be that someone.
“How long have you been teaching? What subjects have you taught? Where was the last place you taught?”
I've never actually taught before. Like I said, my husband didn't want an independent wife. He wanted me to need him. So, he insisted that I stay home. I didn't argue, because I had children to care for. And when Aaron started school, I thought I could work, but then I found out I was pregnant. I had my youngest son, Nick, and was stuck at home with him. This is all new. The only time I've ever taught was for a few months, as a student teacher, shortly after my graduation.
“How do you project yourself to students? How do you think your coworkers will see you? How do you see yourself?”
I like to think that I project myself as someone they can trust. Maybe an older sister or maternal figure. I am a mother, so I do know that I can be a little overly maternal at times. As for coworkers, I hope that they'll see me as more than just a science geek and single mother. Those are really big parts of my personality, but there are other parts. I do think that many of them will just see the single mother side, though, and that is a little disappointing to me. And... I'm not sure how I see myself. That's not a very easy question to answer. I guess, recently, I've been thinking of myself as a survivor. I survived the abuse my husband put my through. I like to think that I'm strong. Not physically, because that would be a load of crap on my part. But emotionally, yes. I've been through a lot, the past few years. Three pregnancies, four kids, finding out one of my children is disabled, losing my mom, being abused by my husband... It hasn't been easy for me. I got through it, though. I survived. And that's who I am. I'm a mother, and I'm a survivor.
“What is the worst decision you have made during your teaching career?”
Er, well... I guess that's just it. I've not had a career to make mistakes with. I suppose the only thing that you could consider one is the fact that it took me so long to start it. If that counts, then I think it was the worst possible decision I could have made. I should have started teaching sooner.
“Tell me a little about your life before coming to B.A.D.”
My life. Well... It started out like anyone else's, I guess. I was born to a mother and father. My father was, and still is, a police officer. A detective, actually. He's chief now, but when I was born, he worked vice. My mom was a homemaker. Up until she got sick, she was always cooking something. Our house always smelled like some kind of spices, and it was always warm... I have three siblings. I have an older brother, Danny, and two younger sisters, Laura and Mary-Lou. Danny is thirty, Laura is twenty-five, and Mary-Lou is twenty. We lived in the same house, my whole life. Childhood was happy for us. We weren't rich, but we got by. For my sixth birthday, my dad got me a chemistry set. He'd seen me admiring it for a few months, and I was ecstatic when I got it. That really is what started off my love for science. And my dad only encouraged it. Every opportunity he had, he got me some kind of science book, to help me learn more. For my eighth birthday, he got me a lab coat. I was so excited. I wore it for a week, without taking it off unless I absolutely had to.
Our house had this big back yard. In the middle of it was this big shade tree, and one summer, when I was about seven, my dad, Danny and I built a tree house. It's still there, actually. We loved that tree house... I made myself a little lab in there. I would go up in it, and do strange scientific experiments.
Even when I was a teenager, we used to go in there. All of us did, actually. It was a refuge. Through heartbreaks and headaches, it was always there. Right after... Right after I left Ryan, I went up to the tree house. My arm was broken, and I had bruises all over my face, but I climbed that tree, and I hid in the tree house until dawn. Laura actually came out and sat with me, all that night. Even though she's three years younger than I am, she's always been a huge support to me. Through everything. I mean... I had such a hard time when Mom got sick. I had just had Aaron, and was suffering from postpartum depression. The abuse from Ryan was in full swing, and then the blow of my mother having cancer came. I wanted to just curl up and die. But Laura... She was there for me. And when Mom did die, she helped all of us through it. When we found out Aaron had autism, she actually moved in to help with him. She's been so much help... I don't know what I would do without her.
I'm not exactly going in order. Sorry. I think I've gotten up to about high school, though. High school was miserable for me. We didn't live in a big city, just suburbs, and so being the smart girl wasn't very popular. Not to mention I looked like a total dork. I had to wear these big, clunky, black framed glasses, and my hair was constantly frizzy. I looked like the classic nerd. Around my junior year, I learned how to stop the frizziness, and started wearing contacts. Between those two things, I looked almost like a completely different person. And that's when I met Ryan.
I still wasn't very popular. Even if I was a bit prettier, I was still a geek. But Ryan didn't care. He was amazing. The football star, the king of the school... And he was so handsome, too. He looked like a movie star, and being around him only increased the feeling that he was something better than me. He eventually asked me out. God, I was such a loser... I actually squealed and hyperventilated before I could say yes. And that was all too eager. Anyways, we started dating. He was a real charmer. He always made me feel so special. We dated through most of my junior year, and all of my senior. He proposed on Christmas, senior year. I said yes, and plans were made for the wedding. We got married in June, and... My wedding was beautiful. It was the day that I felt most beautiful. I mean... Oh god, I'm going to sound like a total dork for saying this, but I felt like a princess. I wore a big, floofy white dress, and had gloves and a veil... My bouquet was white and pink roses. And when I walked down the aisle... It was amazing.
Marital bliss didn't last long. We were both in college, and working hard to pass and pay bills. I worked as a waitress, and he had a job at his Dad's company. We got by, those first two years. He convinced me that a teaching degree would be more sensible, and that it would make things easier, as he tried to find work as an accountant. And then we found out I was pregnant. I was only twenty, and I was still struggling a bit with school. But we were determined to have our baby, and to raise him or her right.
We were so surprised to find out that we weren't having just one, but two babies. Twin boys, about as identical as could be. We named them Nathan and Matthew, and moved out of our apartment, and into a small house. Decorating the nursery was so much fun, and everything seemed perfect. Shortly after we had the twins, though, things started getting bad. It was subtle at first. He'd say something that wasn't exactly kind, or he'd come home from hanging out with his friends, drunk as could be.
And one night, he hit me. I was shocked. The twins were about a year old at this point, and getting by was only getting harder every day. I didn't blame him for being frustrated, and when he apologized the next morning, I forgave him. I didn't know what else to do. He was the father of my children. My husband. I trusted him.
I guess that the forgiveness he'd gotten that night gave him confidence that I wouldn't fight him. Whatever it did, it wasn't any good. Hitting me slowly became a regular thing. He was smart about it, though. He always made sure to hit me somewhere that was easily covered or explained. I'd always been a little clumsy, so if there were bruises on my legs from falling down, no one would suspect anything.
Then I found out I was pregnant with Aaron. For the pregnancy, the hitting stopped, though the harsh words and inconsiderate actions didn't. It was at a point where I was miserable all the time. After giving birth to Aaron, I was even more miserable. The abuse continued, and I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. I had no idea what to do. When I found out that my mother had cancer, on top of everything else going wrong in my life, I didn't know what to do. I was so lost. I felt so alone.
I didn't tell anyone about the abuse, though. And even as I had to watch my mother slip away, and fighting with my own depression, I kept up a brave face. The twins were two, and Aaron was so, so small. I had to be strong for my boys. And I was. I got myself through that, with the help of my family.
My life was passing me by, and I was only twenty two. I didn't care, though. I loved my sons- and I think I always will. They're my whole world. I don't think there isn't anything I wouldn't do for them. When Aaron was three, he was diagnosed with autism. I'd known there was something wrong. He didn't act like a child his age should have. And he hadn't from the start. I'd hoped he was just a late bloomer, but... he wasn't.
It was hard, adjusting to the fact that there was something wrong with my baby. My sister, Laura, moved in with us. Aaron needed almost constant care, and while I could handle most of that, there were the twins to consider as well. I blamed myself for it. Ryan didn't help that at all. He pointed out that it was a genetic issue, and that I was the one who had carried him. He had me convinced that I'd done something wrong, something that had hurt Aaron... There is still a part of me that believes that.
Life moved on after Aaron's diagnosis. A few years passed, and he was turning five. He would start kindergarten soon, and I was going to go get a job, teaching at the local high school. But then I found out I was pregnant again, and getting a job was put on the back burner. Ryan made enough for us to get by, and I didn't need to work.
My pregnancy with Nicholas wasn't in any way easy. Unlike with the twins or Aaron, I didn't gain very much weight, until the last two months before he was born. I had fainting spells, generally when I had overworked myself or gone too long without eating. Morning sickness was even more brutal than it had previously been, and I was miserable through out the pregnancy.
Ryan didn't hurt me while I was pregnant, though it didn't take him long to do it again after I gave birth. I dealt with it, though. The labor for Nicholas was worse than it was with the twins or Aaron either. After my pregnancy, I went to my doctor, because I was really concerned about my health. My pregnancy, all the way through, had been brutal. The doctor really didn't have an explanation for me. There was no reason for it, at least not as far as he could tell. There is some scarring on my uterus, he says, from... Other health problems I've had in the past, but he also said that those would only make it a little more difficult to conceive.
That apparently wasn't true, because eight months after Nick was born, I got pregnant again. I wasn't aware of it until recently, but... Anyway, that didn't affect why I'm here now. It about a month later that everything fell apart. Half of the reason I had stayed with Ryan so long was that I didn't think he'd hurt our children. I could handle being hit, as long as he took care of our boys. They needed a father. But more than that, they needed to be safe. I had thought they were.
I was proven wrong, though. It was a Saturday, and all of us were home. We were in the backyard, and Ryan was grilling up hotdogs. The day seemed perfect. The boys were playing, rough and rowdy as ever. Nick was in my lap, and Laura and I were sitting on the back porch. But then, Aaron ran from the other two, and right into Ryan. It wasn't as if Aaron had hurt him, or even meant to run into him. It was an accident. I... I was shocked when Ryan raised his hand and slapped Aaron. Our son... Our little boy. I had gotten up in an instant, handed Nick to Laura. I got across that backyard faster than I'd ever moved anywhere in my whole life.
I don't remember exactly what happened. I know that I got Aaron away from him, and that I had yelled at him. I yelled about everything that he'd done to me. He raised a hand to me, and after that, I don't remember anything. When I woke up, my arm was being put in a cast, and I had bruises all over my face and upper body. He'd gone berserk, and had hit me as much as he could before Laura got him away. I... I don't know how he broke my arm. I don't remember what happened. The doctors that treated me after it said that I might never remember it. I don't think I'd mind, though.
Ryan was sent to prison, because of what he'd done. Sometimes having a father who is chief of police can be helpful. After his trial, I filed divorce papers, and those have begun processing. I changed my name back to my maiden name, and changed the boys' last name to Hawthorne as well. Then I started looking into a job. There wasn't an opening in town, and so my Dad helped me look around. He found this place, through a judge friend of his. He really set everything up for me. I'm so lucky to have him. Anyway, he helped us buy a house, and helped me get a job. And then we moved here... That's pretty much everything... Wow, I talk a lot. I'm sorry to have given you my whole life's story.
ALIAS: Mairead
HOW DID YOU FIND US? Emily is my cousin!
CODE WORD: Admin Edit
PLAY-BY: Chrishell Stause
Let me know if I should fix anything.
