05/26/2026
I have always been obsessed with monsters.
Halloween, haunted houses, creatures in the dark, women with snakes for hair, mothers in caves, ghosts with unfinished business. I think I loved them before I understood why.
Monsters are where a culture puts the truths it cannot domesticate.
This article came from thinking about what it means to be made monstrous by an institution.
There is the condemnation: too intense, too emotional, too much, too angry, too persistent, too unwilling to move on.
And then there is the reclamation.
Because sometimes the thing they call monstrous is the part of you that survived. Let me say that again: sometimes the thing they call monstrous is the part of you that survived!
The part that kept records. The part that remembered. The part that grew teeth because the truth kept being softened, scattered, and buried.
School advocacy can do that to a person. You can enter the room trying to stay calm, reasonable, collaborative, acceptable. You can leave with your body clenched around everything you were forced to swallow. Over time, you can become almost unrecognisable to yourself.
That process can feel private.
It is political.
How schools turn caregiver testimony into threat — and why the monstrous advocate is made by the institution that fears her memory.