Summer time . . .

I survived my first year of teaching in Boston. That alone calls for a celebration. It was a year that included crazy schedules, biting kids, a week of unemployment, and finally a blessing in disguise. I started my stay in Boston working at a school for children with autism. After my many years of experience, I thought this would be a piece of cake. I didn't realize what was ahead of me. I worked with amazing children, children who couldn't express themselves verbally, but could show you love nonetheless. There were lots of hugs and kisses and smiles, but never any words. There were also lots of freak out moments, hitting, biting, kicking, screaming - in frustration because they didn't know how to communicate. I remember my breaking point. I was sitting in the van next to 12 year old Caroline when she burst out and attacked me. It is what we call a face directed aggression. Her nails that hadn't been cut in who knows how long, scratched me across the face and scared me half to death. We stopped the car, but up a cushion as a barrier between the two of us, and we drove on as she continued to aggress. I was scared. I realized that I didn't want to do this with the rest of my life, as I had previously thought. I didn't want to go to work every day wondering if this was the day that the 5'10" kid is going to attack me. So I quit. I had no back up, I was living in ridiculously expensive Boston, and I quit. I prayed that somehow, something would work out. And miracle of miracles- it did. I got a job exactly a week later working at a High School for kids with learning disabilities. I am convinced that I will probably be working with this population for a while, and I'm good at it. I'm good with these kids, I have patience, and I love them.