to the mother of the hogwarts home

To the mother of the Hogwarts home,

Thank you for the intervention.

I remember when you first moved to our rural, dead end road from out of state. You were the family of four curiously named girls. In a town of many little Kaylas and Johns, you brought Saffron, Ameriah, Noellani and Keziah. As a mom who also chose to educate the girls from home, I was always intriguied by the quirkiness you introduced to our neighborhood.

It had been years since I visited and played with your children. As I got older, I always looked towards your house in reflection. It looked normal on the outside but growing up there as a child, it was like a whimsical playland. I was always fascinated by the spiral staircase, what seemed like hundreds of doors and a whole room dedicated to gymnastics with chalkboards for walls. The Harry Potter books, toys and decor that scattered the home truly made it feel magical. You always insisted I was the Hermione of the bunch. My resemblance and character match was unrivaled in your eyes and you always made me blush when you talked about it. I remember feeling empowered by the fun and mystical energy in your home.

As 7th grade was coming to a close and summer break was upon us, I had just found out I failed gym class for the year. I read “insubordinate” in the comments. I wouldn’t participate. I couldn’t bear to. I didn’t need to be shamed by the teacher. I didn’t need to be made an example of. I didn’t need the kind of friends that I made through this palpable defiance. I was 13 and grieving. I didn’t know what I needed...

I walked down the street in the summer haze, not sure of where I was headed. The black My Chemical Romance hoodie wasn’t a sensible choice for the sticky heat that day. It was becoming thin and tired from it’s daily wear, but hey the zipper still worked.

My questionable attire must have caught your attention from your front yard that day. You beckoned me over with a hand motion as if you were pulling me in towards the house. You looked concerned, but it’s the kind of look from adults I was getting used to. The questions were bland and usual...

“How are you?”; “How’s school?”

Then you asked a question that most people shied away from those days.

“When was the last time you saw your mom?”

I thought hard about this and offered you an estimation that suggested it's been way too long.

I saw a pitiful expression take over your face. After a short pause, you asked me one more question that changed the tradjectory of my days.

“Are you hurting yourself, honey?”

It seems that without a choice in the matter, my head began to nod, my eyes welled up and I said "yes."

“Show me.”

As I pulled back my sleeve I remember you cried, grabbed me and ushered me into your home. The home that was wondrous and magical when I was younger, felt heavy around me. I paced the floors, sobbing while you called my father and told him he needed to come get me, but spared him all the details until he arrived. I will never forget the weight of this moment.

I didn’t think you were a hero at the time. I was feeling forced to face my greatest fear — dumping my pain and grief out of my sleeve and onto my father. The divorce was leveling for him and he didn’t need my baggage. But because of you, I began my journey in mental health education and recovery. I had a supportive family but they didn't see through me like you did that day. Since then I've been guided by several other mentors and have discovered ways to manage...Had you, the mother of the hogwarts home, not disrupted my walk and asked me hard questions, I don’t know how my story would’ve progressed. You are a hero to me. You reminded that 13 year old girl that she wasn’t a failure, no matter what the report card said. You reminded me that I was still a child and it’s okay to need a mentor sometimes. You showed me the magic of being vulnerable and open with trusted adults even when they’re hurting too.

When I reflect on this day — I like to imagine we were both hiding something up our sleeves. I was stubborn as a bull and I would have never come clean, if you didn't have a magical wand up your sleeve poised to get the truth. I’m glad you did. I am endlessly thankful for having you as a "Hogwarts hero", setting me on a path to recovery and self discovery. I think of you as a Minerva McGonagall in my story — a mysterious protector and I, myself still have a little Hermione Granger in my heart.

Wherever you are, I hope you are living a magical life.