Approximate reading time: 23 minutes
So, I have been thinking a lot these last couple of weeks about what it’s like being a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). This has been prompted by a number of experiences which were all going to be unpacked this weekend in one super long post.
However, then life happened….
….the weekend got away from me and now I am too exhausted to write anything.
So, I’m just going to post a poem, which coincidently does tie into being highly sensitive.
Editing this poem made me realise how grateful I am that I finally figured out that I was a HSP. I think for years life just happened….I got overstimulated, I got overwhelmed, I would emotionally crash – while all the time having little understanding of what the real reason behind it was.
Then I would feel guilty and embarrassed that I couldn’t ‘hold things together better‘ which then internalised the shame that there was something fundamentally wrong with me.
Starting to understand my own sensitivity and how it affects me, both emotionally and physically, has been an absolute game-changer for me.
I am grateful that I have got so much better at recognising when I am feeling overwhelmed and that I am more able to stand up for myself and ask for what I need when it happens.
This week would be a case in point.
So, I said ‘yes’ to 4 days of work, teaching in a year one class.
Part of my HSP self-care, which I have been pretty good at sticking to, is not saying ‘yes’ to any long-term’ work in schools I have never taught at before.
(I can last one day…maybe even two, in a difficult school…but NO MORE!)
(And Yes, 4 days is a LONG TERM for me;-)
But this job was offered during the first week of school and I often don’t get much work in that week…so I took a risk and said ‘yes’.
Let the lesson be learnt:
Break your own self-care rule and suffer the consequences.
The class was lovely.
There were, however, two non-verbal children on the autistic spectrum in the class.
Numerous times during my lessons one of the children would have a meltdown and start screaming. One phonics lesson the screaming continued for 7 minutes straight.
7 minutes might not sound like a long time – but if you have EVER been on an aeroplane with a screaming baby…you will understand.
Now imagine trying to teach a lesson to 28 six-year-olds, with their hands over their ears, while this is going on.
(Having worked in a school for children with autism for 6 months I know how hard it can be for these kids, especially in a mainstream environment. The busyness of lots of other pupils, the frequent changes of schedules when they crave structure and routine can all lead to a complete sensory overload for them.)
When I asked that the child in question, please be removed from the class so that she could have some time to calm down and regulate I was informed that they were not allowed to remove her.
Frankly, it was fucking horrible.
By day two I was an overstimulated, dysregulated emotional mess.
When I tried to speak to the learning support SENCO about how difficult it is teaching in that environment she informed me that it was the beginning of the term and that the girls were simply struggling to settle back into the school routine.
This was said with a look that conveyed:
“Could you perhaps try to have a little more compassion for these children please.”
Excuse me lady…I have
a plethora
of compassion!!!
But doesn’t compassion go both ways?
What about those 15–20% of children who, like me, are also highly sensitive?
What about those children with highly avoidant attachments who are so good at masking their anxieties that you probably won’t even know they are experiencing it?
I am all for inclusion…..
but when the needs of 1 child totally overshadow the needs of the 28 other children in a class….
How is that fair?
How is that compassionate to the rest of the children
(or their teacher for that matter?)
And sadly, it is happening everywhere.
There isn’t a week that goes by that I don’t land up in a class that is totally hijacked by the needs of a child who is on the spectrum.
(And no that’s not the first time I have been told that they are not allowed to remove the screaming child from the class.)
Too many of these schools are failing miserably at providing the right support for these children and their peers.
In fairness, there are a handful of schools that I have been to over the last couple of years that are doing an AMAZING job. Many of these schools have dedicated work areas outside the class that provide the calm, quiet space that some of these children so desperately need to learn.
They also have sensory rooms/spaces for the children to move to when they are feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated.
But sadly, these schools, in my experience, are the minority.
Something needs to change.
I feel like there is so much more I want to say on this topic…but I am currently fresh out of steam.
After my chat with the SENCO, on the second day, I phoned my agency. I told them I was struggling and they found a replacement for me.
No questions asked.
I don’t think I have ever cancelled a job like that before.
I am usually such a stickler for honouring my commitments.
But on Wednesday…
frankly, the only person I had compassion for and the only person I wanted to honour was myself.
I physically cannot teach in that sort of environment and they would be better off getting someone who can.
My days of sucking it up are done!;-)
(Ooh look…I wrote a whole post after all😊)
Written 25th March 2022
Write it out
Awareness that suddenly
The bliss has gone
Magically turned back on
Currently lying in bed
With diarrhoea and IBS
A heavy weighty pressure
Goading my chest
I’m not really sure
What has triggered this kink
It’s been a pretty good week
So far
(Or so I think)
So, I guess as per usual
All I can really do
Is write it out
Write it out
Work it all through
Two days teaching in Brixton
(At two different schools)
An interesting comparison
To what I’m used to
Both days went well
I managed just fine
Although the number of emotional needs
Was anything but benign
In both of them I was moved
Around constantly
From year 1 to year 2
Reception and then nursery
So, I got a good feel
Of how each school worked
A whole host of experiences
That were completely diverse
On Thursday in Y2
I’ve NEVER before
Seen so much rambunctious, raucous energy
Come racing through a door
Loud, vibrant children
Speaking at the top of their voice
But they were happy and excited
So, it wasn’t just noise
And amongst them was Maryam
The sweetest, autistic child
Who clung to me with
The most gorgeous of smiles
She gushed “I love you Ms”
(One minute after we met)
It was hard to imagine
This child ever getting upset
Maryam had her own support
Her own one-to-one
But she abhorred the idea
Of getting any work done
So, when it came to work time
She would start to scream
This high-pitched screech
That was simply deafening
A death curling sound
That literally cut through your soul
Each time it happened
I noticed my anxiety grow
Tye, I was warned
Had to be “emotionally” policed
He was an overly sensitive child
(Who was also clinically obese)
I was cautioned to keep checking
Was he happy and OK?
Because at the drop of a hat
He’d get deeply enraged
But the morning went smoothly
Without a single hitch
Besides the random screaming
(A small, annoying glitch)
But truly lovely children
So eager to please
I enjoyed every minute
I love days like these
After break time
For some reason
I was briefly left alone
Where the TA went
I honestly don’t know
And that’s when things
Got a little tied up in knots
When Tye suddenly lost it
And started hurling pencil pots
Because I hadn’t chosen him
When he’d put his hand up
That was all it took to trigger
Tye’s “I’m Not enough!”
And when he picked up a pen
Threw it at a child’s face
I noticed I was dysregulated
In a pretty anxious state
As the hurt child sobbed
Holding his head
I looked down at all the children
Their faces marred with dread
So aware of their anxiety
As they huddled on the floor
Wondering, what would happen
Would there be more
And beside my own nerves
Being completely frayed
I couldn’t help wonder
How these kids do this every day
How’re they expected to learn
When constantly on edge
Do they live in a state
Of continual dread
That afternoon I was in Reception
And then the nursery
Which was lovely and calm
(Some time to sooth, internally)
I have to say as a whole
Throughout this school
I saw such lovely in tuned adults
Who knew what to do
I didn’t witness any shouting
There was LOTS of active fun
It left me with this warm feeling
This is how school should be done
And then right at the tail end
Of my day
I noticed a child
And I sat down to play
Because what I saw instantaneously
Was his deeply set scowl
That was permanently etched
Into his tiny, little brow
Jorge was the smallest
Cutest 3-year-old
On whom life, had clearly
Already taken its toll
So, I sat down to draw
To try to quietly connect
It seemed to be having
A positive effect
He didn’t speak English
That much was clear
But he seemed happy and relaxed
Having me near
And then a little girl joined
The table, wanting to draw
And a couple of seconds later
Jorge was up on the floor
Scribbling heedlessly over
Her colourful artwork
I leaned over gently
To quietly interject
“My sweetheart please
Don’t draw on her work”
I didn’t raise my voice
I was not at all irked
And in an instant Jorge’s rage
Flared right up
He branded the pencil
Wheeling it like a knife to cut
Lunging and aiming
Directly for my eye
I jumped out of my skin
Almost sky high
He didn’t actually touch me
He stopped a mere centimetre before
But when he saw my reaction
He did it once more
I’ve dealt with my fair share
Of angry, violent kids
I’ve been screamed at
Punched
Bitten
And kicked
But something about this
Highly aggressive interplay
Disturbed me so much
I didn’t know what to say
I sat frozen to the spot
Unable to move
Luckily his teacher was in class
And she followed through
She handled him brilliantly
He was put on a time-out
She stayed calm, firm and centred
She didn’t raise her voice or shout
And as we spoke later she said
This was Jorge’s normal MO
But it left me so uneasy
Just wanting to know
How on earth do the other children
Ever feel safe
With a child continually reacting
From such an aggressive state
I mean hitting is one thing
But going for someone’s eye
This felt deeply unsettling
I’m not going to deny
And I get it
I get it
How much pain
Must this child cling to
But will his rage agglomerate
And start to accrue
And although I felt compassion
Understandably for Jorge
I felt so much sadness for teachers
Who deal every day
With violence and aggression
Children who can’t regulate
I wondered how many teachers
Live in this anxious state
And when I googled the statistics
93% of the teachers interviewd
Struggled with their load
All of them characterized
By feelings of distress
Worries about not coping
High levels of stress
My second day in Brixton
I’ll admit I was dubious
Anxious it might be another
Repeat of the previous…
It was one of those days
I could have frankly stayed at home
If I was listening to my body
I would have cancelled to be alone
But ever the hardy trooper
I soldiered bravely on
Bills need to be paid
“You can’t drop the ball and run!”
This school was interesting
Again, a lot of special needs
Way more than the previous
(As far as I could see)
As I was shown my 4 classes
By the frenzied phase leader
Who had the anxious, manic energy
Of an over-extended-people-pleaser
I almost wanted to reach out
And give her the biggest hug
Remind her to breathe
Tell her she’s enough
I started out in nursery
(Only there for 60 minutes)
With the most adorable children
That seemed to strangely exhibit
This distinct energy
Of quiet passivity
Timid, nervous children
Who clung easily to me
Or the opposite they simply
Watched me and stared
Very little social engagement
Was going on there
Many who found it hard
To simply smile
Placid and meek
Checking …was I hostile?
And interestingly I found
The TA in the room
Was rather cold and dismissive
So clearly NOT in tune
With their emotional needs
(Although she got the job done)
But I don’t think I saw her smile
Not even once
The classroom was freezing
All the doors wide open
The children continually complaining
That they were frozen
But my request to shut them
Was blatantly denied
A first basic need for warmth
Not even recognised
Because if children are cold
Hungry or scared
Is going to take place there
And if we don’t listen to little voices
Telling us what they need
How can we ever create intunement
And emotional safety
But what I found interesting
(And heart-warming to the core)
Was a little girl who walked up to me
So very unsure
And after a moment or two
She decided I was safe
She crawled into my lap
In the tightest embrace
And she clung to me with all
Of her tiny might
Like a little baby monkey
Clinging for its life
She never spoke a word
I tried to get her to engage
She was not interested in encouragement
To let go or to come play
Normally in a class
With 20-something kids
You can’t continually condone
Behaviour like this
But the joy of my job
Being a supply
Is that I’m only often there
For the shortest of times
And something in my gut said
“Just let her cling”
Right at this moment
She needs some anchoring
Although now that I think about it
(More rationally)
Perhaps the one that needed grounding
Might actually have been me
So, I played with other kids
With her curled up in my lap
And when it came to say goodbye
I had a quiet chat
“My angel in 5 minutes
I’m going to have to go”
For the first time she spoke
She simply said
“No“
“I don’t want you to leave”
It literally broke my heart
No idea what words of wisdom
I could depart
And when I stood up to leave
When I said my final goodbye
Her anger was palpable
She wouldn’t look me in the eye
She simply walked away
Like I didn’t exist
Her separation anxiety
Wasn’t hard to miss
Except rather than reacting with
A tantrum and tears
She instantaneously built a wall
To hide all her fears
That people can’t be trusted
Nothing is permanent
There was no need to react
Or have an argument
At that point her tiny
Subconscious mind
Had decided she didn’t need me
She would be just fine
And as I watched this unfolding
I was so unbelievably intrigued
That her behaviour didn’t seem
To overly affect me
I didn’t take on all her pain
I didn’t internalise it
There was a separateness there
That felt surprisingly legit
Like a wall of safety
Around my own heart
I can hand out love
Even when it’s hard
And just as I was leaving
Their teacher came back
And in an instant I understood
Why that class was like that
She was rude
She was dismissive
She wasn’t very kind
She was cold an abrasive
Not someone emotionally aligned
And it filled me with sadness
(Yet once again)
That so many schools don’t see
How utterly damaging
These “types” of teachers
Really can be
(It’s not rocket science
As far as I can see)
The next 2 classes went well
No internal rifts
I don’t think I’m imagining it
But I’ve noticed an internal shift
Because these days as I walk
In through a class door
I seem to capture the students’ attention
So much easier than before
And on contemplation, I think
The simple reason is because
I feel stronger in myself
And way more reassured
I make more effort to see them
To genuinely connect
I start of trying to give them
My unadulterated respect
I want to almost laugh
When I think about years ago
When I used to live by the narrative
“Don’t let your fear show!
When you walk into the class
show them who’s boss
Keep your authentic feelings hidden
Good Lord at all costs!”
I never stopped for a second
To analyse why
I had so much fear
That I needed to hide
So that’s been my week
And in my humble defence
It’s been a little manic
And perhaps slightly intense
But I am feeling marginally better
Writing clears up all my doubt
So now I’m going to take a bath
And ‘soak it all out’
(The movie is on Amazon Prime)
1.Herman, K. C., Hickmon-Rosa, J., & Reinke, W. M. (2018). Empirically Derived Profiles of Teacher Stress, Burnout, Self-Efficacy, and Coping and Associated Student Outcomes. Journal of Positive Behavior Interventions, 20(2), 90-100. https://doi.org/10.1177/1098300717732066
2. https://www.bitesizelearning.co.uk/resources/maslows-hierarchy-of-needs-theory