Growing up, an anxiety disorder called selective mutism left one girl shutting down at school—so terrified she couldn’t speak outside her immediate family. Years later, a documentary, “Selective Mutism: Getting The Word Out,” brings those stories to life, incl
When she was 5, the fear had a simple rule: at home she could talk, and in school she couldn’t. She learned that “talking” wasn’t something her classmates could see her do—it was something that only happened in the private world of her immediate family.
So school became a place of freezing. In her childhood memories, she didn’t just feel nervous—she shut down. The moment she wanted to do what other kids did—answer questions, read the daily announcements, clap back at bullies, sing in choir—her brain and mouth seemed to stop working together.
After years of her mother trying everything to get her to talk, she was diagnosed with selective mutism at age 5. Selective mutism is an anxiety disorder characterized by a person’s inability to speak in certain circumstances. What had felt like a mystery started getting a name—one that still follows her into adulthood. not as a label. but as a throughline in how she understands people who struggle in silence.
Now, her experience is part of a larger project with a goal that feels urgent: get the word out. In “Selective Mutism: Getting The Word Out. ” a documentary described as a long time in the making. the filmmaker takes stories from people who were once too afraid to speak and puts them on screen. The film recently premiered at the Davis Theater in Lincoln Square, where she screened it in November. She watched footage recorded 12 years ago—staring back at her from a big screen. She barely recognized herself. The young woman in the film looked like her, but more soft-spoken, less confident than she remembered.
One of the film’s co-participants, Tyler, later told her she felt the same way about seeing herself on the big screen. Tyler is in a different chapter now—married and the mother of two.
The documentary’s creator, Eve Keepings De Jesus, came to selective mutism through her previous work as a licensed counselor. She began making the movie to help parents and teachers find answers. she said. especially because so few professionals specialize in the condition. She also pointed to another barrier that can erase early help: financial strain.
“If you don’t have discretionary income, you can’t take your kids to a therapist,” De Jesus said. “So it just goes undetected because you don’t have the resources to follow up on it. That is so unfair.”
De Jesus’ film leans on what she calls a critical window—early diagnosis and intervention. “Early diagnosis and intervention are key,” she said.
But the documentary also includes people who didn’t receive support early enough. and their stories don’t let viewers forget what silence can cost. The late Sue Cochrane, a former family court judge, grew up in the 70s and 80s. In a blog post. she wrote that her childhood was marked by “abuse. neglect and poverty. ” and later learned the silence she experienced was selective mutism.
In the film, Cochrane spoke openly about her sobriety. In college, she said she had gotten used to using alcohol to cope. Her story landed differently for the journalist—familiar in a way that startled her.
The documentary’s featured trio includes women, and the pattern isn’t random. Experts say selective mutism affects approximately 1 in every 140 children in the U.S. It’s more common among girls, and seven out of 10 children with the disorder come from bilingual homes, like hers.
Her own school experience shows how that bilingual gap can become a dead end. In elementary school, she said her counselor dismissed her parents’ concerns, asking something along the lines of, “Does she even speak English?”
For years, she said there was never a day when she wasn’t treated differently—as one of the few Latino kids at a mostly-white suburban school, and as someone who did not speak. In her telling, selective mutism didn’t only silence her. It became the story people told about her instead.
She said that as second grade approached, classmates avoided her. She became “the girl ‘who can’t talk,’” and people gossiped about her as if she couldn’t hear them. She found comfort in reading and books, writing and creating art. Those outlets. she said. helped her manage her anxiety and eventually lay the path to her job as an arts and culture reporter.
Her silence came with strict boundaries. For years. she would only speak to seven people and only under very specific circumstances: never in public. never at another relative’s house. That list included her cousin Marilyn, her little sister Amanda, her parents, her maternal grandparents, and her sole maternal uncle.
In the privacy of family life, she described how she could communicate—especially with her Ñaña. At her abuelos’ house on Central Park Avenue. she’d “yap” with her Ñaña every day after school. like a neighbor sharing café con leche gossip. Outside that world, she described how her extended family struggled to understand what her anxiety disorder meant. When she shut down around them, they were left confused and frustrated.
She wrote about the way photos could mask what she lived through—often forced smiles captured around her uncle and aunt. She also described how her early years at school turned isolating. By high school, she was doing something that would later bring other people into the light with her.
She created a Facebook page to raise awareness and build a community of parents, educators, mental health professionals, and young people with selective mutism. She also began posting videos on YouTube.
Even though she was diagnosed early, she said she and her parents struggled to find a successful therapy plan and support system at school. The videos were made for her family, classmates, and teachers, she said—but they reached thousands more.
Still, the misunderstanding didn’t end. She said the disorder is often mistaken for autism or simple defiance. She remembered family members trying to bribe her with food and toys. Tyler told her the people around her tried similar tactics too.
Neither of them gave in. And she said the consequences of trying to “out-stubborn” an anxiety disorder were real. In her case. she described wetting herself because she couldn’t ask to use the bathroom. and sobbing for hours because she delayed telling an adult she’d been physically harmed by classmates.
“What kid would choose any of that?” she wrote.
De Jesus’ documentary doesn’t just focus on pain. It also moves toward what she described as proof—Tyler, Sue Cochrane, and her showing that people with selective mutism can be extremely intelligent and can become highly successful.
She said De Jesus and Chris Castino. the script co-writer and a former teacher. hope to bring the film to even more classrooms and theaters across the U.S. and eventually abroad. The documentary most recently screened for students studying psychology or related fields at Saint Xavier University and Waubonsee Community College. She attended some of those screenings and answered questions from students afterward.
Looking back, she said it felt “crazy” to think of all that she had accomplished since the film first got underway—more than she ever thought she could do, and more than she had been told she could.
For her, the final question stays personal. She said she still wonders what her 14-year-old self would think of her now—after the fear, the silence, the diagnosis at age 5, and the long journey from shutting down at school to speaking openly in public.
selective mutism anxiety disorder documentary early intervention mental health bilingual homes childhood trauma education therapy access