A Closer Look

Jesslyn Kaikala has a lot to say.
Ask the Atlanta Elementary School third grader about her three dogs, and she’ll tell you that Baby is not, in fact, a baby. She’s “really big.” Ask about her chickens, and Jesslyn will explain why she only lets one out at a time. Ask about singing, and she’ll quickly clarify that she sings at home, definitely not in public.
She talks fast, laughs often and moves around in her chair as one thought leads quickly to another. There are books to discuss, gymnastics, YouTube videos and candy sushi she has seen online and really wants to try.
And then there is school, which Jesslyn has learned to navigate in ways most of her classmates have never had to think about.
Before classes began this year, Jesslyn walked the elementary campus with her visual impairment teacher. She counted doors, examined walls and hallways, and learned the landmarks that could help her know where she was and how to get where she needed to go once the halls filled with students.
Jesslyn has lived with a visual impairment since infancy. She was diagnosed with retinoblastoma, a cancer of the retina, at 8 months old and underwent multiple rounds of chemotherapy.
Last year, even sitting near the front of the classroom wasn’t enough for Jesslyn to see what her teacher was putting on the smartboard, so she began using a portable video magnification system with a flexible camera that could bring the board to a screen in front of her. This year, she has one available in each of her teachers’ classrooms.
Jesslyn can point the camera at the board, a paper on her desk or somewhere else in the room. With a remote, she can zoom in and out, make an image lighter or darker, change the colors and adjust the angle. She can even freeze an image when she needs more time before the teacher moves on.
“Sometimes my teacher goes really fast,” Jesslyn explained.
Her favorite feature is changing the colors. But one of the first things she did with the camera had nothing to do with seeing the board or completing an assignment.
She pointed it at herself.
“Silly ones and happy ones,” Jesslyn said, giggling as she described the faces she made for the camera.
Her friends think the device is “cool,” too. Brielle sits behind Jesslyn in class, and the two have found ways to help each other.
When Jesslyn needs help, she can ask Brielle. When Brielle needs a better view of something at the front of the room, Jesslyn can point her camera toward it.
“Whenever I say, ‘How do you get on ClassLink?’ or ‘How do you get on Google Classroom?’ she’ll show me,” Jesslyn said. “And then whenever she needs to see something, I point at the TV, and then she can see it.”
Brielle is one of four friends Jesslyn quickly names when asked about the people at school who make her feel like she belongs. There’s also Coraline, Violett and Emma. If Jesslyn needs help, she knows one of them will step in.
She is also perfectly capable of speaking up for herself.
When asked what she wishes other students understood about the way she sees, Jesslyn knew exactly what she wanted them to stop doing.
“Stop asking me, ‘Why is your eye like that? Why is your eye like that? Why is your eye like that?’” she said.
Because there are plenty of other things Jesslyn would rather talk about.
Her favorite place at school is the library.
“Because it has a lot of books,” she said. “And I have a lot of books at home.”
“Junie B. Jones” is a favorite of hers. Jesslyn will happily discuss the characters, including Junie B.’s boyfriend. But when the conversation turns to whether Jesslyn has one of her own, the answer comes quickly.
“Not happening,” she said. “I don’t like any boys. Like, I don’t like anybody that’s a boy unless I know them—like friends, not boyfriends.”
By the end of the interview, Jesslyn had bounced from pets, books, friends and school to church, her brothers and a trip to Hawaii to visit family. Then she was ready to get back to her activity class.
But before saying goodbye, she had one thing to give: a hug.
Because she’s a hugger.
