The Hard Part

The hardest thing to have to face as a teacher is suspected abuse. When a kid walks into your room with a massive bruise you wonder and wonder what should I do. Do I call right away and report it? Do I try to talk to the child and see what happened? Do I ignore it? What do you do? What if you report it and it turns out to be nothing more than a kid being a kid? All these questions plagued me earlier in the week. I figured out what the answer is (at least for me). You immediately tell someone in charge what you see and get them to answer these questions for you.

So, for the first time in my life and what I suspect won't be the last time, I booted up my computer to log onto the dcf website and report suspected child abuse. It was so emotional for me. I actually had another teacher who I've become very close with sit with me while I did it. I couldn't believe how much it upset me and on top of that how much information you have to have in order to make a report. It was borderline ridiculous. But I got it done. The process was very odd to me. I mean I fill out this form and then it prints a receipt for me like I just ordered concert tickets or something.

The next part sucks maybe more. The next day a CPI came to school to talk with me. They ask for more information and if you've noticed behavior changes. I learned that this isn't the first time they've talked with this family. That terrifies me. The child happened to not be at school so they then went with a deputy to his house. I just can't get over it. It's left me sleepless for days now. Hopefully soon something will be done and I can once again sleep.

Really?? In 2nd Grade?

I can remember being in 2nd grade. Honestly it wasn't that long ago. I hated it. My teacher thought I was dumb because of the fabulous southern accent I had being from Charlotte, North Carolina. Kids made fun of me because I was still relatively new and sounded funny when I talked. But that's not the point, the point is that in all of my memories about 2nd grade I don't remember one, ever being boy obsessed or two, being nasty and manipulative. I don't remember the other girls being like that either. This is what I have learned though as I enter the 4th quarter of my first year teaching, life as I knew it at their age is NOTHING like it was for me. This is my place to talk about what I see and encounter on a daily basis in my 2nd grade classroom. The names have been changed but the stories and feelings are very much real. It's a form of therapy for me. Somewhere to vent without having to worry. Hopefully it works...