Teachers Help Their Students
My soul melts away for sorrow;
strengthen me according to your word!
– Psalm 119:28
She had called DHR. For those who don’t know, that’s
the Department of Human Resources. It’s who you call to report suspected child
abuse or neglect. It was her first time.
She didn’t give specifics. There was no need. She
admitted she’d probably never know what the social workers found. She’d likely
never see if anything really changed for the child. For some reason, teachers
aren’t deemed worthy to know such things.
Years before I had consoled a friend as she navigated
the first years of teaching second grade. “They (college professors) don’t tell
you how to handle it all,” she said. “They train you to teach the children how
to read and write, how to do math and learn about history. But what about all
the other stuff? Young children can’t just leave it at the door and get on with
their education.”
How true. No one explains what to do when a little
girl shows up for class in a summer dress and no coat even though its freezing
outside. No one trains you how to help a little boy who is now living with his
grandmother because his daddy killed his mama.
The easy answer is to report it to the proper
authorities and trust they will handle it. Social workers are supposed to make
sure children get the counseling they need. They’re supposed to make sure
children are properly cared for, getting the food, medical care, clothing and
housing they deserve. Except that doesn’t always happen.
In our world, the focus is on keeping the family
together even when it’s obviously not in the best interest of the child.
Parents have rights, you know. There’s a long process. The children live life
in limbo, unsettled and traded around like playing cards. Is shared blood
really worth the cost?
Are there any better options? Foster care can be
wonderful or a nightmare. How can anyone ever tell what is best for a broken
child? Can love ever remove the scars of rejection and neglect that linger long
into a life that goes on?
Another teacher told about finding out on social media
that one of her students had been prostituted out by her own mother. She was
able to connect court appearance dates with behavior issues with the child.
Suddenly, it all made sense. That knowledge helped the teacher as she helped
the child.
Teachers spend five days each week with their
students. They are the first line of defense. Yet they are usually the last to
know what’s going on with their students. Why is that? Aren’t they trustworthy?
We trust them to teach our children. Why can’t we trust them to help those same
children cope with horrible life circumstances?
There is a bond that develops between a teacher and
her students. Their hearts break for those who are hurting, those who aren’t
being nurtured and provided with proper care. God alone can open all our eyes
to see the children who need help and to grant us the strength and courage to
make the call. Maybe one day we’ll see the value of including teachers in the
process.
