"They Tried To Kill Tiffy"
I Hope I'm Wrong
Usually, I love teaching. I love the kids and love when their little eyes shine. I love when they finally get what I am teaching and get excited about it. This school year is still in the very early stages and I have seen a lot of progress from my students already. I love it when that happens.
But sometimes, I hate my job. There are aspects of the job that I wish I didn't ever think about having to deal with. When I went to college, I was never taught that I might have to deal with some of the things I have to deal with...
One of Those Days
Today was one of those days...I arrived at work later than usual. I always go in to check on one of my little guys at breakfast. He always sits next to his older sister, a sweet shy little girl with big brown eyes.
This morning, I didn't even notice my little guy at first. When I looked at his sister I was shocked. One eye was a deep purple. There were two long scratches on each side of her forehead. She looked sad and was even more quiet than usual.
I sat beside her and asked her what happened to her eye. I tried to keep it casual - like I wasn't really worried about it, hoping she would tell me something. Something that was not as horrible as I was thinking. But she didn't say anything. She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders.
I asked if she had fallen. She stared straight ahead. I asked if she had run into something. She stared straight ahead. I asked if she and her brother had been playing kind of rough. She stared straight ahead. She wouldn't answer any of my questions.
Her little brother spoke up. He is autistic and has trouble communicating. He is almost like a toddler learning his first words. Sometimes I can understand him. Sometimes I can't.
They Try To Kill Tiffy
Today, he said "They tried to kill Tiffy." I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly. I asked him to say it again. He looked at his sister, and suddenly closed his mouth. I looked at his sister. Usually when I had trouble understanding my little guy, his sister would translate for me. Today, she just looked away.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what had happened to this little girl, and just wished she would tell me - tell me she fell off her bike - tell me that she and her brother had fought - tell me something.
The bell rang and I walked her brother to his classroom. As we walked down the hall, he tugged on my shirt. "They try to kill Tiffy."
"Who is Yee?"
"Yee try to kill Tiffy."
He then started making some unusual sounds. Sounds I had not heard from him before. I tried to stop him and get me to tell more, but he saw his teacher and ran into his classroom.
Since I have written this there was been someone from SRS visit the home. They found nothing to be alarmed about. I have also discovered that the "Yee" is an uncle...
The little boy fears getting on the bus to go home every night...he throws a fit and has to be helped onto the bus, where he kicks and screams and cries. When I ask him why he doesn't want to get on the bus - he says "It's loud...it's scary...I don't wanna leave here...it's safe..."
We continue to document....
Yesterday my little guy had a bad day. A really bad day. It was just a strange bad day. At first it was just a bad word. He said "Ass." Then he yelled at all the kids in his kindergarten classroom "Get your ass on the bus!" He yelled it again and again. Until he began crying. Then when he was sent to my room, he hid under a desk. He got onto all fours and began rocking back and forth...like a caged animal. Then he began licking...yes licking...the chair. When I asked him to stop, he looked at me with a blank stare and went back to licking the chair. After about ten minutes he finally stopped. Then he started yelling. No words, just yelling. I asked him to stop...then told him to stop. It didn't work. He began throwing things. I finally had to "restrain" him. It wasn't a real restraint. It was more of a hug. A hug with him sitting in my lap. That's when he really started yelling. Or more of a scream. A scream that sounded like an animal dieing a slow painful death. Only when I began rocking with him did he stop. And that was after twenty minutes of that scream. I can still hear it. When he calmed down, I asked him what was wrong. All he said, over and over again, was "No cage...no cage..."
I made another call to Social Services....I hope they do something...before it's too late...
Child Protective Services
I went to the nurse and the assistant principal and told them what I had seen and heard. The nurse went to talk to the little girl. She wouldn't answer the nurses questions, either. She had the same faraway look in her eyes and just stared. Then the assistant principal tried. And she had the same results.
The nurse and assistant principal decided that Child Protective Services should be called. Just in case.
The woman from CPS came this afternoon. She talked to the little girl. She talked to her brother. By this time the little girl had a story. She said she had been playing with her older brothers and was running and tripped over a toy. She had fallen into the wall and hit her eye...
Her little brother said again, "They try kill Tiffy." When asked who, he said again, "Yee." The woman from CPS asked, "How did they try to kill Tiffy?" The little boy went to detail about how this "Yee" had grabbed his sister's head from behind and pulled her with his hands and scratched her. He said this person had hit her in the face....
CPS went to the home tonight....I don't know what will happen....I wanted to take both of these little ones home with me so that I would know they were safe....
Sometimes, I hate my job....
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