I love Nick for exactly who he is. As Shakespeare says, "Love is not love / Which alters when it alteration finds / Or bends with the remover to remove / O no! It is an ever-fixed mark." Autism does not alter my love for him, and I do not wish to remove any of who he is. I accept him for exactly who he is: a beautiful, joyful little boy who doesn't have many words to communicate with me.
My fear, though, is that the lack of words would keep me from knowing if something was wrong. What if he was sick? What if he was in pain?
What if someone hurt him?
Last night around 6:20 the principal of my boys' school called me. She needed to talk to me. She asked if she could come over to my house. She said she'd be here in ten minutes.
For ten minutes I worried and wondered. Did Noah get into trouble at school? Did Nick bite one of the children in his class? I feared she was coming to tell me that one of my kids was being expelled.
Instead she told me that it was an adult who had done wrong.
It wasn't the first time we'd had a conversation like this, about the same teacher. During the early weeks of school, while Nick was still absolutely freaking out about the transition to kindergarten (routines and consistency are so important in autism), Nick had gotten upset about a door. It seems like a simple thing, I know. The class was in the computer lab, and the computer teacher's office door was cracked open a little bit. Nick is horrifically OCD about doors--they NEED to be either all the way open or all the way shut--but he didn't have the words to tell this to the teacher. Instead of nicely sitting at a computer, he screamed and tried, over and over again, to run to the office door and shut it. His teacher tried to get him to work. She sat down in a chair in front of a computer and put Nick on her lap. She wrapped her arms around his torso to keep him still (basically restraining him), and my child is afraid when he is restrained. He bit the teacher.
And instead of gently pushing into the bite to free herself, she hit his face to get free. In doing so, she caused a lot of damage to herself--Nick's teeth tore at the skin and she began to bleed.
I listened to all of the perspectives. I talked to the district about trainings for dealing with aggressive behaviors. I provided options that work when Nick is upset. I thought that maybe, just maybe, the teacher didn't think clearly in the panic of the moment of being bit and that having trainings and options for dealing with Nick's tendency to bite when he is scared would make the difference.
Ten days ago Nick's class was in the library. Nick was sitting in a chair, as were all of the other children, and I'm completely thrilled that he was sitting along side his peers--this is major progress in our Autismland. Apparently Nick was swinging his feet, which all kids do, autism or no. The teacher grabbed Nick's feet to hold them still, grabbed them so hard that she threw my child to the floor. For swinging his feet in a chair.
He could have gotten a concussion when his head hit the floor. He could have broken his tailbone when his bottom hit the floor. And he wouldn't have been able to tell me any of it.
The teacher's responsibility when any child gets hurt is to report it immediately. Immediately. The teacher didn't. Eventually someone else who was in the library that day made their way to the principal and shared what they saw.
The district is promising "disciplinary action." But that doesn't help. My stomach still feels sick. How many other times did this teacher hurt my son in the ten weeks he was her student? How many other children have been hurt by her?
How many traumas have been unspoken?
The district is making new protocols and policies, and adminstration is making frequent visits to the special ed room. But none of it makes me feel any better.
My child was hurt, and I wasn't there to protect him. My child was hurt, and he didn't have the words to tell me about it.
There's nothing worse than that.
2 comments:
I am so sorry you and your son are experiencing this. This is any parents nightmare, even a child who does not have autism may not find the words to explain to abuse. That's why it goes unpunished, children treated this way learn not to trust adults and don't tell. This is compounded by Nick's limited vocabulary. I hope you see some results quickly. I'm just glad the witness and principal made the ethical choice to notify you rather than unjustly protect the teacher. - Jennifer
I feel the same way about J and he is verbal. He however, forgets many details about his day. And now he tells me some of his day but only if I ask the right questions.
His parapros have to provide a daily communications log for me with info about his emotional state, social interactions, school work, and goals for the next day. It gives me just enough info to ask questions. But if something traumatic happens, they can write more about it.
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