Get to know me

I’ve wanted to do this for ages, but I kept getting too busy or just forgetting. But it’s finally here—a huge list of questions and answers with loads of details about me. Most of it is probably totally pointless, but maybe someone is interested.

Just a quick note: you might see the spelling switch between American and British English in the questions. That is because I just copied them exactly as people sent them to me.

My own writing might be a bit of a mix, too. I tried to stick to British English because that is what we learn in school here, but I talk to people from all over the world, so sometimes I pick up different words. Since English isn’t my first language, there might be mistakes. Basically, this isn’t an English exam, so I hope it doesn’t confuse anyone! I spent so much time writing this and making sure I didn’t accidentally leak any private info that I didn’t stress too much about the grammar.

If you have a question that isn’t here, just ask and I’ll try to answer. I might even do a part two. I won’t answer anything too personal, though! Anyway, I won’t keep you waiting—here are the answers:

The basics & identity

• What do you like to be called?

It kind of depends on who you are. If you are Polish, you can use Staś since you know how to write it. But if you are from another country, Stas or Stan is totally fine too.

There are only like two people online that I let use nicknames, they know my dad, so it’s different. Everyone else, please just use the names I said or my full name. I got bullied a lot before, so nicknames make me really nervous and can hurt my feelings, even if you are trying to be nice. If we become close friends, just ask me first if a nickname is okay.

• How old are you?

I am thirteen.

• What’s your personality like?

You’re reading it. My personality is on this blog. It’s in my poems about war and my rants about injustice. It’s in my confessional poems about feeling broken. I am quiet on the outside, but my mind is incredibly loud. I am passionate about the things that make me mad, like cruelty and hypocrisy. And I am very, very tired a lot of the time.

• What’s your ethnicity?

That’s actually a really hard question. If you saw a photo of me, you would see I don’t look like a typical Polish boy. My bio parents were Polish and Japanese, so that’s part of it. But you have to look at my grandparents too—they were from Poland, Japan, Iran and Iraq.

I haven’t really asked them about the specific details, but I know those places have loads of different ethnic groups, so it’s pretty complex. All I know for sure is that my amber eyes and my skin colour in the summer definitely come from my Middle Eastern side. So, I guess I am basically Iranian-Iraqi-Japanese-Polish?

• What’s your favourite colour?

Viridian.

• What’s your eye color?

My eyes are amber, which is basically just orange. People often get amber mixed up with hazel, but hazel is more yellow. Or they mistake it for light brown, which is… well, quite obviously brown.

• What’s your favorite animal?

When I was younger, it used to be wolves. But now it’s foxes, ever since I met one that actually came near me (and wasn’t rabid).

• What’s one thing you’re really shy about?

Everything, honestly. But mostly being around new people.

• If you had a superpower, what would it be?

To make everyone understand each other without having to talk.

• What’s a life goal you have right now?

To keep writing and maybe get my poems published someday.

• Do you have a favorite stuffed animal or comfort item?

Yeah, I have a stuffed animal (a little fantasy beaver) that one of my old foster siblings gave me. It means more to me than anything else. It is actually the only thing I still have from before I was adopted. That is just down to foster care stuff, though—not my adoptive family, just to be clear.

About being autistic & mute

• What does it mean to be mute?

It means I physically cannot speak. It isn’t a choice. It isn’t shyness. It isn’t psychological either, even though I do have mental health struggles. That is the hardest bit—when people realise I can’t speak, they think I’m just not trying enough. They assume it is selective mutism, where people physically can speak, but I can’t.

It is really frustrating because there isn’t much awareness about it. And it is worse because people abuse the word ‘mute’ when they aren’t mute at all, they just choose not to speak. It creates so much stigma, but there is no other way to explain it. If I told people I have ‘bilateral vocal-fold agenesis’, no one except a doctor would have a clue what that means.

• Can you explain bilateral vocal-fold agenesis simply?

It means I was born without vocal folds (the vibrating parts in your throat), so my throat can’t make the sounds needed for speech.

• Can you make any sound?

I can’t phonate. I can’t hum, I can’t scream, I can’t whisper. Sound requires vibration, and I have nothing to vibrate. I can make percussive sounds—like clicking my tongue or snapping my teeth—and you can hear the rush of air when I exhale forcefully, but there is no “voice.” It is a total, hollow silence.

• Are there physical dangers to this condition?

Yeah, and this is the bit people don’t know. Your vocal folds don’t just make noise; they are like gatekeepers for your lungs. They close tight when you swallow to keep food and water out of your windpipe. Because I don’t have them, my airway is basically always open. It means I’m at high risk for aspiration—which is just medical speak for choking on food or drink that goes into the lungs.

• How does that affect eating and drinking?

I have to be really careful. I can’t eat while laughing, running, or when I’m distracted. I have to actually concentrate on swallowing to make sure everything goes down the right way. Textures matter loads—some foods are harder to handle than others. It isn’t just ‘eating’; it’s basically a safety procedure.

• What about coughing?

This is another issue. To cough properly, your vocal folds need to close to build up pressure, then burst open. Since mine don’t close, my cough is very weak and breathy. It makes it hard to clear my throat if I’m ill. A simple cold can get dangerous really fast because I can’t just ‘cough it out’ like you can. I have a machine I have to use a few times a day just to keep my lungs clean.

• Does it hurt?

It doesn’t hurt in a day-to-day sense. My throat just feels… empty. But it can be terrifying when I do choke on something, because I can’t cough it up strongly, and I can’t scream for help.

• How do people react when you tell them?

They usually don’t believe me at first. They assume I’m just shy or stubborn. When they realise it is physical, they often look at me with pity, which I hate. Or they ask, “Can’t they fix it?” [Czy nie da się tego naprawić?]. The answer is no—you can’t really build working vocal folds from scratch.

• How do you communicate if you can’t speak?

I mostly type or write, usually using a speech app on my tablet. Sometimes I use signs or gestures too.

• Tell us about your speech-generating app on your tablet. What voice does it use?

It uses the voice of a boy who donated his voice to me. The AI allows it to say anything. I am not really a fan of AI, as most people don’t use it for anything actually useful, but this is an exception. The boy and I are friends now because of it. He is like an angel to me because he made it possible for me to speak. Even though the sound doesn’t come from me, he shared his voice with me, which means more to me than anything else ever could.

• Do you prefer signing or the app?

Signing with my family. It’s faster, more real. It’s our language. But in public, with people who don’t know me, my tablet is the only way.

•  Do you use Polish Sign Language (PJM)?

I know some, but I am not fluent. My communication is more of a hybrid.

• What is the hardest part about being mute? 

The speed. The world moves at the speed of sound, and I move at the speed of my fingers. By the time I have typed a response, the conversation has left me behind.

• Does being mute mean you can’t hear?

Nope! My hearing is fine, I can hear everything just like anyone else.

• What is one thing you wish people knew about being mute?

That being silent doesn’t mean I’m stupid. People hear my AI voice, or see that I don’t speak, and they start slowing down their words. They treat me like I’m five, or like my brain is broken too. My brain is fine. It is just my voice that isn’t there.

• Do you ever dream that you can talk?

Yeah. All the time. In my dreams, I have a voice. It is weird—I don’t know what it is supposed to sound like, but it is mine. And I yell. I shout. I say all the things I can’t say when I’m awake. Then I wake up, and the silence feels just so heavy.

• What’s the most frustrating thing someone has said to you? 

“Just try.” [Po prostu spróbuj]. “What, are you shy?” [Co, wstydzisz się?]. “Cat got your tongue?” [Zapomniałeś języka w gębie?]. Or when they just ignore me completely. It is really hard being treated like I’m invisible.

• Can you use your tablet when you’re panicking?

No. I am frozen. My hands tremble. I can’t type. I can’t sign. I can’t move. I am trapped. It’s a sort of double silence, and it is the most terrifying thing I know.

• What is it like to be autistic for you?

It means my brain works differently. I feel things super intensely, struggle with changes, and I have fears about things most others do not.

• What are some of your sensory issues (things that bother your senses)?

Loud, sudden noises are the worst, and some textures in clothes drive me crazy.

• How do you handle being freaked out by anxiety?

I try to find a quiet, dark spot, listen to music, and remind myself to breathe.

• What makes a social situation really hard for you?

All the talking and not knowing what to do with my body, plus the fear of being misunderstood.

• Do you get tired from socializing?

It depends on the person, but mostly, yeah. It takes hours of alone time to recharge.

• Is it hard to make friends?

Yes. It’s hard to find people who are patient enough to wait for me to type.

• Do you prefer texting, writing, or typing to talk?

Typing is the easiest and fastest for me.

• What’s the hardest thing about struggling with social cues?

Not knowing if someone is joking or mad, and feeling like I’m missing the secret rules everyone else knows.

• What’s a common misunderstanding about autism you want to fix?

That autistic people don’t have feelings or want friends. We do, it’s just harder for us to show it or make the connection.

• How do you let people know what you need when you’re overwhelmed?

I usually type something simple like “Need quiet” [Potrzebuję ciszy] or just go to a safe spot.

• What’s the most helpful thing someone can do when you’re overwhelmed?

Just be quiet, don’t ask me questions, and give me space. Don’t touch me. Unless you’re my little sister—she is the only one allowed to touch or hug me, even when I’m overwhelmed.

• Do you like hugs?

Only from people I trust a lot. And I have to know it’s coming.

• What’s one thing you wish people would stop doing?

Stop talking to me like I’m a baby or like I’m stupid just because I can’t answer with my voice.

• How does your autism interact with your mutism?

It is a complicated mix. My autism makes the world feel really loud and overwhelming. My brain isn’t good at filtering things; it just lets everything in at once. Sometimes, when I get sensory overload, I want to scream, but I physically can’t. That energy is trapped and has nowhere to go. I just have to absorb it. Until I break.

• Do you want to speak?

I want to be heard. I don’t care about the method. My blog, my poems… this is me speaking. This is my voice. And right now, it’s the only one I have, so it’s the one I will use.

• What’s the best part of being silent?

There is no “best part.” But it has made me a good observer. I see things people miss, because they are too busy talking. I see the look that passes between two people. I see the verdict in a glance. I see the truth because I am not distracted by the noise.

• How do you laugh?

I don’t, not out loud. I smile. My eyes laugh. My little sister says I “shake” [trzęsiesz się] when I find something really funny. It is a silent laugh, but it is real.

• Do you have “safe” foods?

Yes. This is partly autism (needing predictability) and partly my agenesis (needing safety). I prefer foods with consistent textures that are easy to swallow. Mashed potatoes, soft breads, things that don’t have surprise crunches or thin liquids that move too fast. Eating safe foods lowers my anxiety about choking.

Family & background

• Do you live with your parents?

I live with my adoptive parents. They are my parents. They are the ones who chose me.

• You were adopted. What is your family like now?

They are… my family. It’s my mom, my dad, and my siblings. They are loud. They are kind. They are patient. They are the ones who taught me what a “home” is, instead of just a “place you stay.”

• Do you have siblings?

I have 12 siblings. 11 are adopted (edit: from my perspective), and one is my twin sister. I love them all, just in different ways.

• What’s it like having 12 siblings?

It’s loud and crazy, and sometimes too much, but it means I’m never totally alone. It’s better than I thought it would be.

• Where were you adopted from (foster care or a different country)?

I was adopted from foster care here in Poland. I won’t say exactly where, though. There are some things I just won’t share, and that is one of them.

• How long have you been adopted?

Over a year.

• What’s the biggest difference between living in foster care and now?

Having a permanent home and knowing I don’t have to move again. And my dad and siblings are really supportive.

• Do you keep in touch with anyone from foster care?

2 former foster siblings.

• What is your favorite thing about your family?

That they accept me even when I’m being super weird or quiet.

• What made you feel safe when you were first adopted?

My own room where I could go and shut the door when things got too much.

• Do you have a sibling you’re closest to?

One of my little sisters. She is autistic (like most of us) and very introverted. She is just really calm and doesn’t talk much, which makes it easier to get on with her compared to most of my siblings, who are loud and really active all the time.

• What’s a family rule you actually think is a good one?

We always knock on closed doors. Privacy is important.

• Do you remember your biological family?

I remember… before. I remember what led to foster care. I remember abuse. I don’t remember ‘family’. I remember fear.

• What languages do you know?

Polish is my first language, but I can fully understand English, German, Spanish, and French. I also know enough Japanese for simple conversations, but I definitely need to improve a lot.

Trauma & foster care & adoption

• How old were you when you entered the foster care system?

I was five.

•  Do you remember the day you left your biological home?

I remember the noise. Sirens. Voices. I remember feeling freed.

• What was the intake process like?

It was cold. Doctors examining me like a specimen. Social workers typing on computers. No one looked me in the eye.

• How many homes were you in?

Too many.

• Did you have your twin sister with you?

No. I was alone in the system. We were seperated.

• Did you have a social worker?

Yes. A different one every few months. They were always tired. They always had too many files.

• How did social workers treat you?

Most were kind but tired. Overworked. They looked at me and saw a file, a case number, a problem to be solved.

• Did you feel safe in the system?

Never. Safety comes from knowing what happens next. In foster care, you never know if you’ll be there tomorrow.

• Did you know about your rights?

No. A child in the system feels like they have no rights. You are property of the state.

• What was the hardest part of the first night in a new place?

The darkness. Laying in a strange bed, listening to the house settle, knowing that if someone came into the room, I physically couldn’t shout for help. I was scared.

• Did you have nightmares in foster care?

Every night. I would wake up sweating, mouth open in a silent scream.

• How did foster parents handle the nightmares?

They didn’t. If I didn’t make noise, they didn’t wake up. I suffered in the dark alone.

• Were you ever separated from your culture and beliefs?

Yes. In the system, you are just a body. You eat what they eat. You follow their rules. You lose the little traditions that make you you. Being in the same country doesn’t change that.

• Did you celebrate birthdays?

Not really. Usually, the date just passed.

• Did people understand your autism in foster care?

Rarely. They thought I was “difficult” or “acting out.” When I covered my ears because it was too loud, they thought I was being rude.

• Did they understand your mutism?

No. That was the dangerous bit. They often thought I was just refusing to speak. They would say, “Use your words, Staś” [Użyj słów, Staś]. They didn’t understand that I physically couldn’t.

• Did you ever feel like a burden?

Every single day. You feel it in the way they sigh when they sign the paperwork. You feel it when they talk about the cost of your medical needs.

• Did you feel lonely?

Always.

• Did you run away?

Where would I go? I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t ask for help. I was trapped by my own body as much as by the system.

• What happened if you got hurt?

I cried silently. If nobody saw the blood, nobody helped. That teaches you a very hard lesson about being invisible.

• Did other children bully you?

Yes.

• Did adults bully you?

Yes, even more so.

• Did you fight back?

No. I froze. Fighting back meant trouble, and trouble meant being moved again.

• How did you communicate your medical needs?

I couldn’t. I had to hope they read the file. I had to hope they understood that the aspiration risk meant I could die if I ate the wrong thing.

• Did you have a speech tablet (AAC) back then?

No. Those are expensive. I had my hands. I had primitive signs. I had a notebook, if I was lucky.

• Did you feel trapped inside your head?

Completely. I had screaming thoughts and nowhere to put them.

• Did people think you were deaf?

All the time. They would shout at me. I would cover my ears because it hurt, and they would get angry.

• Did people think you were intellectually disabled?

Yeah. They said, “He doesn’t talk, so he must not think” [On nie mówi, to pewnie nie myśli]. I was reading books they couldn’t even understand, but they treated me like a toddler.

• What was your biggest fear regarding your mutism in care?

That something bad would happen to me in the dark, and I wouldn’t be able to make a sound to stop it.

• Did you draw/doodle back then?

Yeah. My earliest doodles were mostly wolves. I always felt a connection to them because of the loneliness and our shared amber eyes.

• Did anyone encourage your writing?

One of my foster siblings did. She gave me a notebook and a box full of pens and pencils.

• Did you write poetry then?

Yes. I started writing poetry in the care system.

• Did you pray?

Yeah. It was never answered. It has left me with a bit of a mixed view on religion, to be honest.

• Did you go to school?

Yes, but I was moved so often that I was always the new child. I sat in the back. I did the work. I tried to disappear.

• Did you have friends?

No. Making friends requires staying in one place. It requires trust. I didn’t have either.

• Did you think you would be mute forever?

I knew I would be. It’s physical. It’s agenesis. There is no magic surgery. I had to accept that silence was my permanent address.

• Did your conditions make it harder to be adopted?

Yes. People want “healthy” children. They hear any condition and they see a lot of medical bills and specialized care. I felt like damaged goods. My parents are the ones who saw me, not just the diagnoses.

• Did you expect to be adopted?

No. People want healthy babies. They don’t want mute, autistic teenagers with trauma.

• What does “broken” mean to you?

It means ‘defective’. It means watching other children get adopted and knowing exactly why they weren’t picking you. It means seeing other children having such great lives (and still moaning about it) and knowing I won’t ever have any of that. It means feeling like a product on a shelf with a ‘damaged’ sticker on it.

• Did you feel unlovable?

I felt… complicated. I knew I was too much work. Love requires energy, and I felt like I drained people.

• Did you blame yourself for being in care?

Yeah. For a long time, I thought that if I wasn’t so broken, life would have been better, and my bio parents wouldn’t have abused me. It felt true, too, because I was the one getting hurt, not my twin sister. It took getting adopted and leaving care for me to finally realise that the only people to blame are my bio parents.

• Did you trust anyone?

No. Trust gets you hurt. I learned to rely only on myself.

• Did you hate the “normal” children?

I envied them. I hated their ease. I hated how they could just speak and shout. How they could cough. How they had parents who looked like them, and loved them.

• Did you feel disposable?

Yes. Like a paper plate. Use it, then throw it away when it gets too messy.

• What is your “gut feeling” about the system?

That it is broken. That it tries, but it fails. That it hurts everyone involved.

• Did you self-harm in foster care?

I tried to take my life once.

• Did you ever give up hope?

Yeah. There were days I decided, ‘I will just stay in the system until I am 18, and then I will disappear.’ That is why I tried to take my own life, like I said in the last answer.

• Do you still feel broken?

I feel… glued together. The cracks are there, but I am holding.

• Can a broken child be fixed?

No. You can’t “fix” a person. You can only love them until the broken pieces stop cutting them so deep.

• When did you meet your parents?

When I was 11. They were different. They didn’t look at the door.

• How did you meet your parents?

They saw my profile. They saw the “scary” words—Agenesis, Autism, Trauma—and they didn’t run away.

• What was the first meeting like?

I was frozen. I was waiting for the rejection. They just sat with me. They didn’t demand I “speak.” They just let me be.

• Did you think it would last?

No. I gave it a week. Then a month. I kept my bag packed in my head. I keep worrying to this day.

• Did you trust them?

No. I waited for the other shoe to drop.

• Was the adoption process scary?

It’s a lot of courts. Judges. Lawyers. People talking about your “best interest” while you sit there silently. It feels like a trial where you are the evidence.

• Why did they choose you?

It is better to ask them. My dad is on Bluesky if you want to ask.

• Did they change your name?

No. I am Stanisław. That is my name. They respected that.

• Do you talk about the past with them?

Rarely. It hurts too much. I write poems about it instead.

• Do you call them Mom and Dad?

Yes. But it took time for the words to feel real on my fingers.

• Do they advocate for you?

Fiercely. I know my dad blames my mum for not being there for us—that is why they divorced. But she does stick up for me and tries to spend time with me. She even took me to Japan to meet my bio grandparents.

• Do you feel like their son?

Most days. Some days I feel like a visitor. But the visitor days are getting fewer.

• Did you test them?

I pushed them away. I broke things. I wanted to see if they would leave.

• When did you realize it was permanent?

When they took me shopping to make my room properly mine. They invested in me. They showed me that I was actually worth something.

• Do you forgive your biological parents?

No. I don’t forgive them. Never will. They know that. They aren’t part of my life anymore. That door is closed.

• Do you forgive the bad foster parents?

No. They were adults. They should have known better.

• Do you forgive the system?

The system is a machine. You can’t forgive a machine for grinding gears. You just try to survive it.

• What would you tell a child in foster care right now?

Keep your head down. Keep your heart safe. You are not garbage. You are just waiting for the right stop.

• What would you tell foster parents?

We aren’t projects. We aren’t ‘resilient’ just because we survived. We are hurt. Be patient. Give us the love and care we deserve. And for God’s sake, don’t steal the little that we have.

• Does the trauma ever go away?

No. It changes. It becomes a shadow instead of a monster. But it is always there.

• What is your wish for the foster system?

That they stop treating children like files. That they listen to the quiet ones. The ones who don’t scream are hurting the most.

• What is the legacy of your foster care years?

Resilience. But the kind that leaves scars.

Daily Life & routine

• Do you like a clean room or a messy room?

I like it organised, even if it looks messy to other people. I need to know where my stuff is.

• What’s one thing you have to do every day?

Spend at least one hour totally alone, with no one talking to me.

• What is a typical day like for you?

I wake up very early, before anyone else. The silence in the morning is the best kind. I go to school. I come home. I do my homework. And then I write. I write to process the day—all the noise, and all the people.

School & learning

• Do you go to a normal school?

Yes, I go to a public school.

• How do you ‘talk’ to your teachers?

I use my speech app on my tablet. I type what I want to say, and it speaks. It’s a slow, frustrating process. Imagine trying to have an argument or ask a complicated question when you have to type every single letter while the class moves on.

• What about your classmates? How do you talk to them?

I mostly don’t. Some of them try to be patient for me to type what I want to say. Most of them… just talk around me. Like I’m a piece of furniture. Or they talk at me, not expecting a reply.

• What’s the hardest part about school?

Everything. The noise. The hallways. The crowded rooms feel like cages. It is the feeling of all those people, all that sound, all that input. It isn’t the learning—I love learning. It is the place itself. It is trying to survive the sensory storm for too many hours a day.

• Do you have any friends at school?

I have a few friends.

• What is your favorite subject?

Literature and history. Anything that involves words and stories. I love seeing how we use language to make sense of the chaos.

• What is your least favorite subject? 

Physical Education. It’s too loud, too chaotic, too much sensory input.

• What do you do after school?

I come home, and I decompress. I have to be alone for at least an hour. I sit in my room, in the quiet, and I just let the day drain out of me.

• Do you ever get in trouble?

It’s hard to get in trouble when you’re silent. But I get “in trouble” in other ways. My teachers get frustrated with how long it takes me to answer. Or they think I’m not paying attention, when really I’m just frozen, trying to process a sound that hurt.

• What’s the hardest part about school (besides social stuff)?

The noise. The bells, the hallways, the cafeteria. It’s too much.

• Do you have a favorite teacher?

My history teacher. He lets me write extra reports instead of making me do group projects.

• How do you participate in class discussions?

I don’t, really. If I have an answer, I write it down and show the teacher later.

• Do you do your homework?

Most of the time.

• How do you handle a substitute teacher who doesn’t know you’re mute?

It’s really stressful. I just point to my throat and shake my head, or show them a note

The future

• What job do you think you’d be good at?

A writer, a journalist, or maybe a historian.

• What are you most nervous about when you think about being an adult?

Having to do everything myself, like making phone calls (I can’t) and paying bills.

• What are you most excited about?

Being able to make my own schedule and live in a place that’s perfectly quiet.

• Do you think you’ll ever stop writing poetry?

No. It’s how I talk.

• Do you want to get married or have kids?

That seems really, really far away. I don’t know.

• Do you think you’ll run Mute Doodle Den for a long time?

I hope so. As long as I have stuff to write.

• What kind of person do you hope to be in 10 years?

Someone who is still writing and is less anxious.

Hypotheticals & “What Ifs”

• If you could change one rule at your school, what?

A mandatory quiet room (with no bright lights) for anyone who is overwhelmed.

• If you were given a million złoty, what’s the first thing you’d buy?

A soundproof room, a huge library, and the best headphones ever made.

• If you could meet any poet, who?

If it doesn’t matter if they are dead or alive, it would be Wisława Szymborska. There is no writing I admire as much as hers. I think I could have learned so much from her. If the poet needs to be alive, it would be Ocean Vuong. If you want to understand why, I recommend reading his work.

• If you could instantly speak for just one day, what would you do?

I… don’t know. I think it would be too weird. I’d probably just stay quiet anyway.

• If you had to give up music or writing, which one?

That’s not fair. I guess… I’d give up music. I need to write.

• If you could tell everyone in the world one thing (and they’d understand), what?

“Just because someone is quiet, doesn’t mean they have nothing to say.” [To, że ktoś jest cicho, nie znaczy, że nie ma nic do powiedzenia].

Deeper dives (feelings, values, opinions)

• What makes you feel truly happy?

Finishing a poem that says exactly what I wanted it to say.

• What makes you angry?

When people are cruel on purpose, or when they interrupt me when I’m typing.

• What makes you the most angry?

Hypocrisy. I hate when people pretend to care but do nothing. I hate when politicians draw lines on maps and treat human lives like game pieces. I hate that we are destroying nature and calling it progress.

• What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

My older sister Kasia told me, “You don’t have to be like everyone else to be okay.” [Nie musisz być taki jak wszyscy, żeby być w porządku].

• If you could tell your younger self (in foster care) one thing, what?

It gets better. You’ll find a place. Just hold on.

• You are only thirteen. Why are you so political?

Because being young doesn’t mean being blind. I look around and I see a world that is on fire. I see adults who are asleep at the wheel, patting themselves on the back while the planet burns and people die in wars. If I don’t write about it, I am part of the problem.

• Why are you so critical of Artificial Intelligence?

Because it is fake. It offers us answers we didn’t ask for and tries to do our thinking for us. I see my generation forgetting how to be human, how to make mistakes, and how to be lonely. We are trading our souls for convenience.

• Why is gender equality so important to you?

Because it’s not fair to treat people worse, or tell them what they can be, just because they are a boy or a girl.

• Why do you care about domestic violence stereotypes?

Because people think it’s only one type of person, but it can happen to anyone. And boys/men can be victims too, and people forget that.

About your blog

• What’s the hardest part about running a blog?

Worrying if people will misunderstand what I’m trying to say in my poems.

• What’s the best part?

When someone comments and says they felt the same way.

• How do you handle mean comments (if you get them)?

I try to ignore them. I have depression, so it’s hard, but I know they don’t know me.

• Do your siblings or dad read your blog?

Yes, they do.

• Do you write every day?

I think about writing every day, but I only write when I have a strong feeling.

Last & most important

• Is there anything you do that would surprise people?

I wish I could see the faces of anyone reading this, because the answer is: I am a babysitter.

It is something nobody expects me to be able to do. Not even the parents, usually. My first time was looking after the daughter of my dad’s friends. They only let me do it because they were desperate and literally couldn’t find anyone else. I did everything they asked, and when they came home, she was asleep. I got paid, and I thought that was it. But the next morning, my dad told me the parents were shocked—their daughter told them I was the best babysitter ever.

Honestly, all I really did was treat her the way I wished I was treated at that age. I didn’t just sit there and watch her; I actually joined in with her games. I was goofy. I gave her real attention. That is how I got recommended to other parents. A mute boy isn’t exactly the best advertisement on paper, but the words of happy parents are.

The most recent child I looked after was actually recommended by our psychologist. Yes, plural—she is my psychologist, but she also sees the boy I looked after. We have our own separate struggles, and she realised that we could actually help each other with the things we find the hardest. It surprised me that his parents even agreed to leave him in my care for several days—that is a huge amount of trust to place in someone like me. But it really created a bond between us; we have basically become unofficial brothers. I still take him to school, bring him home, and spend time with him, even when I’m not babysitting.

I don’t usually say this about anyone who isn’t one of my actual siblings, but I truly enjoy his presence. We just seem to balance each other out. Being with him feels easy—I don’t feel the urge to hide away, and he seems to just settle down when I’m there. I am really lucky our psychologist made that connection. It gave us more than just help with our mental health—it created a connection that is way deeper than just a simple friendship.