Emotional Tensions

We are running on fumes. I hate that I have my own inner turmoil while my daughter and her little family are facing such an incredibly huge trial of their own. Sergio is alone in a strange Mexican city without his family, going to appointments and hoping he gives the correct answers when asked unexpected questions. He is tired, teary and only wants to come home. My sweet, strong and beautiful daughter is doing everything in her power to hold things together here at home, to reassure her children and to put on a positive front all while her insides are churning. It is heartbreaking to watch. In another week we will have an answer and are holding onto the belief that Sergio will soon be back at home with us. Life cannot possibly throw only one trial or challenge at a time. They always come in multiples, and my insides are churning too.

The situation at work has gone from bleak to hopeless. It was not enough to have one "indicated" CPS case against me and my coworker (the one Kelly and I are in the process of appealing), but second investigation has been added. Video cameras in classrooms can be helpful in determining events, and they can also be misleading. On Friday I sat down to draw with our almost three year old toddlers but they were feeling spicy and decided to chew on crayons and run about the room instead. One small boy stood directly across the table from me, smiled mischievously, and took a bite of a thick black crayon. I stood up to take the crayon and he took off running. I pursued, and this was my demise. The voice in my head said, "Don't grab the hoodie!" and so I reached for his shoulder, caught him, and took the crayon. In the process a corner of my right, middle finger scratched the side of his neck (although my mind is confused now as to whether it was the right or left...) I did not look at his neck before walking back, dropping the crayon in the box, and sitting down. My mind was already spinning. What should have been the simple retrieval of a mangled crayon had suddenly morphed into something bigger than I could process. The flight/freeze response kicked in and I felt paralyzed.

The child cried. Whether from the scratch on his neck, the taking of the crayon, or both I do not know. The other teacher immediately scooped him into her arms, started to reprimand me, and then saw the scratch on his neck. She shouted, "Oh, my God!" and rushed for the phone to call the office. The irreversible turn of events had begun. The next two hours I walked about, interacting with children in a stupor. I already knew what was coming. I felt ill and uneasy. I had meant no harm and yet harm had come. 

I was eventually called into a meeting with admin, shown the video (which I could not watch closely) and asked if I had anything to say. I did not. I did not know what they were seeing. No mention was made of the scratch. I was told the video showed me grabbing the child by the hoodie and that this was maltreatment of a child. I disagreed and said I did not grab the hoodie. I was told I was being placed on "administrative leave, effective immediately" and given a paper to sign with their findings and decision. I declined to sign. I gathered my things and went home. My son in law left for Mexico early the next morning. Sunday was Mother's Day.

On Monday afternoon I was summoned to the daycare for a meeting with the licensor and a woman from CPS. I was peppered with questions and accusations. The licensor at one point said she did not see a crayon in the child's hand and that in the video it looked like I had grabbed the child by the hoodie and pushed him to the ground. Everything I do is on camera and open for interpretation. Children are wildly unpredictable, tossing their bodies and flailing at unexpected moments, especially when they are upset. He may have dropped himself to the floor when I took the crayon, but I did not push him.

"If you could go back and do this again," the women asked, "is there anything you would do different?" Hindsight is always 20/20, but even that doesn't always provide answers. "What would you have done?" I asked them. They squirmed a little and turned the question back to me without answering themselves, and asked the question again. I was assured that they could never "do" my job, but that was of little consolation.

When that meeting was finally over, there was a meeting with administration. I knew what was coming already. I was being terminated due to "maltreatment of a child." Another paper to sign, which I did not. I instead acknowledged seeing it with initials and a date. I am forever grateful to my friend Linda who insisted I needed someone along for the meeting; at least as moral support and a note taker. I am now unemployed, and possibly ineligible for unemployment. 

I have one CPS case against me for simply being in the classroom, and a new investigation for removing a chewed crayon from the hand of a child. Children have been my life. I love them with every fiber of my being. They have restored my soul in days past, put hope back into my heart, and given me life, yet I am quickly becoming terrified of them.