Approximate reading time: 18 min
It has been a bit of an insane week.
I am sitting in my bedroom, staring out at my garden and I feel like all I want to do for the next two days is SIT and DO NOTHING.
My nervous system needs a little reboot.
So, I thought I would write it out….at least it won’t be a complete waste of a weekend then.
(Ps This is going to be a loooooooong post – so go make some tea!;-)
On Monday, I had a trial day for a one-day-a-week position covering a year-one class. The school was only a 20-minute walk from my house, which was a huge bonus.
So, I am walking to school, minding my own business, noticing that I was feeling slightly anxious but also managing to soothe myself relatively well.
(I felt proud)
I walked past a house with a car parked in the driveway when I noticed a little Boston Terrier puppy running around the car, sniffing everything. It immediately looked odd because you NEVER see dogs off-leash without their owners in London. I looked around to see if I could see the owner, but there definitely wasn’t anyone there. I tried to call the dog to me, but he wouldn’t come, so I just carried on to school.
As I passed the house, the puppy ran out to follow me, but then, it ran into the street and almost got hit by a car. I ran to retrieve him from the road and realised that his entire body was shaking- he was petrified and literally felt frozen to the touch. I tried knocking on a couple of doors to ask if he belonged to anyone, but no such luck.
What to do?
What to do?
I continued walking to school with a shivering pup in my arms, and Neurotic Angel was going crazy in my head.
“What the Fuck are you doing?
You are going to a job interview….you can’t turn up with a dog!!!
Put him down.
Mind your business!!!
Put him down!
He is not your problem.
Why are you still carrying him…
Put him down!!”
Honestly, the last 10 minutes’ walk to the school was like WW3 in my head.
Obviously, I knew I was NEVER going to ditch him on the pavement like that.
I AM, of course, Saint-Gayle- Saviour of little stray Indian dogs, highly confused pigeons, somewhat dim-witted swans, geese in tight squeezes
AND now
(apparently)
petrified and lonely little Boston Terrier pups.
(Whom we shall call Buddy)
I save their lives, and then I write about it, making sure people know what a wonderful human being I am!
(It is, after all, the only ONE clear thing in my life that I know I was put on this earth to do!!! )
So no, I was NEVER going to abandon little Buddy…..but I found it rather interesting how difficult being OK with that decision was. How hard it was for me to just be relaxed and confident that doing the RIGHT thing was FAR more important than worrying about annoying random strangers at some random school.
(Aaahhh, the people-pleasing, good girl part of me lives on!!)
I tried phoning a couple of animal shelters in the area, but none of them opened till 9 am.
So, I just kept walking.
I eventually arrived at school, and luckily, I bumped into a couple of teachers at the gate who all
“Oohed and Aahed”
about how gorgeous and sweet Buddy was, which in turn provided me with the emotional ‘re-enforcement’,
(That I so desperately needed)
as I approached the receptionist’s desk, dog in arms.
I feebly fumbled through the story, apologising profusely
(Like I had somehow done something wrong!)
I SAVED A PUPPY DAMMIT ALL!
I was very conscious of my fawning response as I implored the receptionist for some guidance as to what I should do.
The receptionist was initially slightly irritated, but Buddy, in all his cuteness, soon won her over.
Except she, too, was now at a loss as to what we should do.
She tried phoning the caretaker to see if he could come help.
He wasn’t answering.
Numerous teachers filed into the school, and all of them fell in love with Buddy.
(I mean maybe they could adopt him?????
Make him the school mascot!
Seemed like a PERFECTLY good solution to me.)
Exasperated, I asked the receptionist if there was somewhere we could keep him till the end of the school day, and then I would take him to a shelter.
She said no.
Fair enough.
She then walked into the head teacher’s office to ask her what we could do.
The head teacher’s office was right next to the reception; her door was open; she was sitting at her desk and she had witnessed, firsthand, all the cafuffeling going on with Buddy but at no point did she get up to come and help.
(She had clearly not been drawn in by Buddy’s adorable sweetness.)
I heard her state very clearly that THE DOG needed to be gone before the children arrived.
I know!
But what the FUCK am I supposed to do with him?
In defence of her obviously cold heart
(How could ANYbody not LOVE Buddy?)
she did suggest we take him to a vet in Ealing, which opened at 8.30 am. One of Buddy’s onlooker-admirers offered to drive him to the vet and the headteacher, rather begrudgingly, allowed another TA to go with her so that she could hold Buddy in the car.
(HE WAS A SHIVERING WRECK!!!)
Doggy saved.
Hands free.
I was finally ready to start teaching.
I arrived in the class, slightly dysregulated in a manic, happy way because, as we all know, ‘animal-saving’ is rather thrilling work.
The TA in my new prospective class was honestly amazing. We instantly clicked and I was somewhat hopeful about the day. I was warned that one of the little boys, Mason, had some behavioural issues and that there were two autistic children in the class, neither of whom had been statemented yet (aka they wouldn’t have any one-to-one support.) The class had this frenzied frisson-like energy in it, but the kids were lovely, and they seemed to respond well to me…so my hope expanded.
(Even Mason was behaving.)
When they came back from play, Mason was continually turning around to talk to a child behind him on the carpet.
(Clearly, our honeymoon period was over)
After my third request asking him to please stop, I wrote his name up on the board as a warning.
And that was the end of Mason….he started crawling under the tables and wouldn’t listen to me at all. I asked the TA what normally happens when he does this, and I quote:
“Honestly, this is all he EVER does in class; he has very rarely even sat on the carpet.”
(She seemed as exasperated by the whole situation as I felt.)
I was not happy.
But sometimes you need to pick your battles, so I just left him and continued trying to teach the class.
When I sent the kids back to their tables to finish their work, Mason refused to do his work, and he started getting three of the other boys at his table all riled up. He then threw a pencil really hard, and it hit one of the boys just above his eye. Trying to console a sobbing child, I approached the TA again and asked:
“Surely you have procedures in place when stuff like this happens? I mean, he has hurt another child. I am not comfortable keeping him in class while he is hurting others.”
She reiterated that nothing happens and that the leadership team never gets involved.
Honestly, I wanted to scream.
Children like Mason, who have an insecure ambivalent attachment strategy, have learnt to use their behaviour as a way to gain attention. The absolute best way to deal with this type of behaviour is to ignore it as much as possible and find ways of reinforcing the positive behaviours they do show. However, when you have a class filled with other children, this is not always possible. Very often, when they don’t get the attention that they so desperately crave, they start escalating their behaviour. The best way to nip it in the bud is to separate them from the class so that they can calm down and regulate themselves again. Having an audience is like fuel to a fire for them. I know all this, but there is very little I can do while I am still responsible for the rest of the class.
I then requested that she please go and inform someone on the leadership team
(Headteacher / Deputyhead – I didn’t care! )
that I needed some support.
She returned about 10 minutes later, saying that they wouldn’t come and that they said I must just follow the normal procedure of behaviour management for these types of incidents.
Seriously?
I am not a full-time teacher in your school.
I do not know what your “normal procedure for behaviour management ” is.
You have not provided me with any form of documentation on your behaviour policy.
(Most schools provide you with a small pamphlet at the beginning of the day filled with all the info you might need regarding safeguarding and behaviour)
I am here to do a trial day in your school to determine if I would like to continue on a motre permanent basis and this is the support that is given?
In the 6 years I have been doing supply teaching, I have never been refused help when I have requested it. Especially when one child has deliberately hurt another.
I just couldn’t fathom it.
The disconnect and lack of care was astounding.
The TA then suggested that I send Mason to the other year 1 class for a time out. I tried, and he simply ran off through the school.
And that was pretty much how the rest of the day went. After lunch, Mason punched the little autistic girl in the stomach. I tried to send him to the other year 1 class again and he yet again ran off.
It was a joke.
I couldn’t WAIT till the end of the day.
And that was Tuesday.
I still have Wednesday, Thursday and Friday to write about.
But frankly, I’m bored already.
This week was like Groundhog Day.
Friday was the absolute worst.
28 pupils
1 non-verbal autistic child
4 other autistic children of varying needs
2 children with severe attachment /behavioural issues
And ONE super sweet TA – who was trying her absolute best to cope with them all.
The little non-verbal girl does absolutely nothing except float around the class the whole day. This is her second year in reception, and she still doesn’t have any one-to-one support.
I know I keep harping on about this.
I know I must sound like a stuck record.
But HOW in GODs name are schools even allowed to have so many special needs children in mainstream classes without providing the correct support for them?
How is this fair to any of the children?
How is this fair to the staff?
It breaks my heart and it enrages me all at the same time.
It’s weeks like this that every inch of hope for the London school system is squeezed out of me.
I have so much respect for all of the staff members I met this week who work day in and day out in these types of highly dysregulated school environments.
I personally couldn’t do it.
Each and every school I worked in this week got a huge “HELL no don’t go back” written next to it in my ‘Black list of London schools’.
(Normally, I only have one or two tough schools a week.)
This problem is so gigantically
HUGE
and I have no idea how to even start helping to fix it.
There is, of course, a gentle, kind and logical voice in my head reminding me that all of this experience, as difficult and frustrating as it is at times….is leading me somewhere- even if I can’t quite see it now.
The same voice also reminds me that it’s not my job to fix the world
and that perhaps this ever-so-slight saviour complex is left over healing
that I still need to do.
(Both points have been noted.)
But lest we forget
….this week
Saint-Gayle-Saviour-of- Lost-Puppies
rescued Buddy, who has now, thanks to his microchip,
been reunited with his owners.
So just maybe the week wasn’t a complete disappointment after all😊
This week’s poem
I try not to put disclaimers on my poems.
I can’t tell you how many times I want to justify and explain how much I have grown and changed since writing them. It often feels mildly mortifying that I am even posting some of them. This week’s poem feels particularly cringeworthy…I look back at myself, and I almost can’t believe how overly sensitive I was. I messaged my therapist just before the weekend and then was upset that he didn’t get back to me…during his off time? I want to die with embarrassment. Some of my inner parts mock me for being so self-centred and entitled, and they would much rather I didn’t reveal that to the world.
But that compassionate part of me, that has healed, is more able to hold the bigger picture of who I am and she always wins. Children are very often self-centred and entitled, and their world revolve around them. When people are healing childhood trauma, they need to make space for those ‘childlike parts’ that haven’t grown up yet. Those parts, within all of us, who never got seen or heard when we were little. Those parts who continually react to old triggers from our past and then end up playing havoc in our lives when we are adults.
The world is sadly full of ‘child part-driven’ adults behaving badly.
As much as I HATE posting some of my poems – Every time I edit something, every time I look back, I am reminded of how much my mindset has shifted, how much more assured I am of myself, how less scared I am of getting hurt by others and
how change is always possible.
So, I think that’s worth sharing.
Written 13th of April 2022
Space
It’s been an interesting
Eye-opening couple of days
I’ll attempt as best I can
To enlighten and explain
On Monday I woke up
To untempered fury
As I sat in the garden
(It was a wee bit scary)
I had messaged my therapist
To remind him to send
Something that I had needed
Just before the weekend
He’d read the message
But he never replied
Triggering Lyssa, my volatile
Angry, inner child
So, I sat in the garden
Listening to her scream
“How the fuck can he do this?
How dare he ignore me!
I have spoken to him before
How this triggers me so
Why’s this happening again?”
(Alyssa’s entitlement grows)
“Like do I really mean
So, fucking little to that man
That he could forget me so easily
(I don’t understand!)
How can he be an amazing therapist
But so, CRAP at returning mail”
Honestly, all I wanted to do
Was cut my losses and bail
And as Lyssa stepped aside
Another part stepped in
I couldn’t stop Lyla’s tears
As they overwhelmed me
I felt hurt
I felt frustrated
I felt so unseen
(OMG Could I be ANYMORE
Of a Drama Queen?)
But I knew honestly
I didn’t really want to say goodbye
To this person who has been
Such a consistent support and ally
I knew in my head
That this was not about him….
It was residual energy
From when I was a kid
Putting me back in this situation
That I so distain
When old beliefs reloop
A damaging toxic refrain
You’re not wanted
You’re not loved
Nobody really cares
You can’t trust anyone
So why even go there
Although I realised all this
(As clear as day!)
I still hated his guts
I wanted him to pay
The crying eventually passed
I began to meditate
I found myself in
The deepest of relaxed states
I don’t often go there
But hell, when I do
Nothing but serenity
And blissfulness flows through
It was right at the end
When something bizarre occurred
A sort of vision in my mind
Of my inner little girl
It felt so vivid, so real
( I actually got a fright)
As she jumped towards me
She was a formidable sight
She wasn’t angry or crying
Her arms were open wide
As she jumped into my lap
While shouting
“This is mine!”
And in that second, I got it
Heart and soul
his wasn’t my pain
I had to let it go
Residual pain from my inner child
And she was telling me
“I’ve got this
I’m strong
Just look at me!”
When I opened my eyes
Not a scrap of anger was left
Gone were those feelings
That had left me so bereft
It seems after so long
Of holding my inner child’s hand
She decided to come to my rescue
To help me understand
That feeling of forgiveness
Being able to embrace
All parts of other people
To just give them space
As my therapist said on Tuesday
(When I so eagerly filled him in)
“It’s about accepting I, too,
Have parts that are disappointing”
And it feels like honestly
My therapy has just begun
As I feel safer and more relax
Than I have ever done
As I show up with more ability
To speak up authentically
To put forward those angry
Long time hidden parts of me
Free from the fear of criticism
Or a huge blow out
Or worse that feeling
Of quietly being zoned out
By others who haven’t yet
Begun to heal
(With no space for their own emotions
There is no room for you to feel)
What has passed since then
This feeling of expansiveness
It’s amazing how time expands
When it’s not gobbled up by stress
I’m so conscious of more presence
Just being in the now
Not judging my emotions
More able to allow
Things to come up
And not get tangled up in them
I’m getting so much better
At simply ‘noticing’
With this space freed up
I finally started my studies
(Also known as SSP)
Created by Stephen Porges
The SSP
Is a non-invasive application of
Using specially-filtered music
That is listen to every day
Stimulating your Vagus nerve
Helping you feel safer, more OK
Designed to help your nervous system
To more consistently regulate
More easily able to face
The challenges of each day
I’m so excited to have found this
I just want to cry
Happy, happy tears
I’m finally understanding why
I always feel so stuck
In this loop of fight and flight
And at the end of this tunnel
I’m starting to see some light
Which has in return triggered
So much gratitude in me…
That I am slowly starting to unravel
What’s going on in my body
How my emotions and my nervous system
Are so intricately entwined
I am slowly finding the tools
To untangle and redefine
My anxiety and all of that
Which holds me back
I feel hopeful and excited
Things will get back on track