Our Land – For Squirt

Hello friends! Two Our Lands in one week! I know – awesome, right? Also a first. I felt like it was important to share Rachel’s (Tao of Poop) post this week due to its timeliness, as it was written as a response to this post. If you missed it, please take a minute to read it. How Rachel handled special needs children in a classroom is inspiring and should set the bar for all teachers and communities.

Today, I’m excited to feature another former special needs teacher who is now a stay-at-home mom. Today’s Our Land was authored by my friend Lisa Witherspoon from The Golden Spoons. I met Lisa fairly recently through a group that we’re both in and am so glad that I did. Lisa touches the hearts of her readers with tales about life, motherhood, and her family. After reading today’s Our Land, I hope you’ll go check her out. Her (and my) favorite post of hers contains these beautiful words written to her daughters:

“Have Faith.  Faith in God.  Faith in yourself.  Faith in people.  Faith in humankind.  Bad things happen.  During your life, you will experience sadness and anger and fear and loneliness.  If I could protect you from it all, I would do so without hesitation.  But, I can’t.  When you face adversity, remember that there is always good in people and there is so much good in the world. Find it.  Hold onto it.  Have faith that, eventually, the good will always overcome.”

For “Squirt”

I remember the first day she walked into my classroom.  She was a little bitty, and adorable.  She had big, bright eyes that shone from behind her little glasses.  She was a bundle of spunk and energy, bouncing from one thing to the next and smiling all the while.  She didn’t know she had special needs.  She was the very definition of joy.  She made a lot of progress in my classroom that year.  After meeting her, my husband affectionately nicknamed her “Squirt.”

I used to teach preschool children with special needs and, because of the way it was set up in our state at the time, I was lucky enough to have most of them in my class for two consecutive years.  I was looking forward to having this sweet child in my class for a second year.  However, when she returned that fall, something was different.  The light in her eyes was dimmer and the joy she used to exude was deflated.  It had only been three short months, but she was like a completely different child.  At first, I couldn’t put my finger on the reason.  Fortunately and unfortunately, it didn’t take me long to discover the cause.

Since all of my students had various special needs, we partnered with the local YWCA and began taking a field trip once a week for swim lessons.  There was a group of ladies who came early for their water aerobics class and served as one-on-one pool buddies for my little guys and gals.  It was an awesome partnership and wonderful experience for all of us.  It was in the locker room of that YWCA that I first started putting the pieces together.  As I helped her into her swimsuit one morning, I noticed some odd bruises.  Because I was a naive, young teacher and because I didn’t want to believe the truth, I excused it away and tried to convince myself  that my suspicions were wrong.

A few days later, I was no longer able to come up with excuses.  She was only four and as I helped her with some routine bathroom tasks, I saw more bruises.  These were in the distinct shape of a belt buckle on her thigh and her rump.  “What Happened?” I asked.  She didn’t have to answer.  I saw the fear in her eyes and I knew exactly what happened without her speaking a word. No longer could I deny the obvious.  At the time, I didn’t have children of my own and the sight of the bruises awakened something in me I had never felt before.  Now, as a mother, I realize it was that “mama bear” sense of protectiveness that leads us to go to immeasurable lengths to keep our children safe from harm.

I flew across my classroom to the phone and contacted the school social worker.  With her assistance, we contacted the Department of Social Services and reported the suspected abuse.

Over the next several months, “Squirt” repeatedly came to school hungry, dirty, and bruised.  Once, I bathed her in my classroom sink.  For many weeks, my teaching assistant and myself paid for her lunches from the cafeteria and hid granola bars in her backpack when she left our classroom.  Every day when she left, my heart broke a little more.

I made many calls to Social Services during those months, too.  The case went through a few different workers and finally wound up on the desk of Richard who seemed to be more action-oriented than the others had been.  I had him on speed dial.  Sadly, I called multiple times a week.  Each time, he came to the school to document the “evidence.”  Each time he visited her dad.

Eventually, after what felt like hundreds of calls to social services, an unnerving confrontation with her “father” (I put that in quotations because he does not deserve that title in the formal sense of the word), and the case landing on the “right” desk, serious action was taken.  Finally, she was removed from the home and placed in foster care.

Over time, more details of her situation came to light.  Her mother has passed away when she was an infant (this, I already knew).  Apparently, over that summer, her “father” had met a new woman and she had moved in.  Because of “Squirt’s” health concerns, this new woman did not want “Squirt” around.  When she got home from school, “Squirt” spent the afternoons and evenings alone in her room with no food, no toys, and nobody to tuck her in at night.  She also was not being given life saving medicine that she desperately needed.  What specifically instigated the many, many bruises I will never know.

The truth is parenting is hard.  I have three daughters and sometimes they drive me crazy.  They bicker. They whine.  They can be needy.  Sometimes, they get hurt or sick and I have to give them extra attention.  But, I could/would NEVER hurt them.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  I would give them my food if they were hungry.  I would give them my coat if they were cold.   I would do anything and everything in my power to protect them.

I cannot fathom hurting my children or any child.  Ever.  Sadly, though, it happens every day.  All you have to do is turn on the news to hear about children who are abused, neglected, abducted, or exploited.  That’s one reason I rarely watch the news anymore – I don’t want to live in that land.  I don’t want to live in a land where monsters prey on helpless children.  I don’t want to live in a land where children aren’t safe.  I don’t want to live in a land where I have to teach my kids about “stranger danger.”  I don’t want to live in a land where children lose their innocence far too early.

I hope that one day we can live in a Land of Empathy and Wonder where no child goes to bed hungry or in fear; a land where children – all children –  are safe, happy, and loved.

To you dear Squirt,

You will be eighteen in a few short months.  I hope you know that I will never forget you.  I think about you and pray for you often.  I hope I did the right thing for you so many years ago.  I hope I did everything I could to protect you.  Most of all, I hope you are safe and that you have found the love and happiness in life that you so deeply deserved.  God bless you, wherever you may be!

Technically, April is Child Abuse Prevention Month.  I say let’s make every month Child Abuse Prevention Month.  If you suspect child abuse, click here for a list of numbers you can call or simply contact your local law enforcement.  Please don’t turn the other cheek – your call could make a world of difference in the life of a child.

Thank you, Lisa for this amazing contribution to Our Land. I’m so glad that when you were a special needs teacher who suspected abuse, that you acted. I hope and pray along with you that Squirt is happy and loved today. More on Lisa:

Lisa is a former preschool special needs teacher who has been working as The Director Of Household Operations in the “Spoon” household for the past ten years.  She has three daughters (ages 11, 8, and 6), a husband who accumulates many frequent flyer miles while traveling for work, and a dog who adds to the chaos. When she’s not serving as a minivan taxi driver to her kids or volunteering (again) at their schools, you can find her on her blog The Golden Spoons (www.the-golden-spoons.com).  She can also be found on Facebook (www.facebook.com/GoldenSpoonsBlog) and Twitter (@TheGoldenSpoons).