The hardest thing, the best thing

I don’t care what anyone says, being a teacher is the hardest job in the world. Last weekend my partner was at his daughter’s birthday party and the adults in the family were carrying on about how easy it is to be a teacher. Doug did his best to argue with them, but lots of people think teaching is a doss job, after all you get six weeks’ holiday over the summer every year! It’s fortunate I wasn’t at this gathering otherwise I might have had to bash some heads together.

Today I have done one of the hardest things anyone who works with children ever has to do, but also one of the most privileged things as well.

I have reported a child to the child protection liason officer at her school and it will probably be referred to social services.

It’s hard because there’s every chance it will result in severe disruption to the child’s life. Although being hurt might be part of that life and it’s not nice, children like predictability because it makes them feel safe. This child actually said to me that she is safe in her home and my action will probably change her life. I hope she will still trust me. She’s a darling girl.

It’s a privilege because I know I’ve acted to make a tangible difference in this child’s life. Now it’s all been passed over to the CPLO at her school and they will take the next step.

Still, I felt terrible leaving her house last night and I can’t help thinking about her, hoping she’s not being hurt at this very moment.

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