How was your day?
I was kicked in the head (repeatedly) at work on Tuesday. Now don't get me wrong, I've been kicked in the shin, spit on, and headlocked by 6 foot 3 clients before (all in the past 2 months), but this was different. Usually I work with adults, but this was a little boy. Usually I'm not terrified. Usually I'm not alone. Usually I don't have to fight back.
This was different.
I was terrified, I was alone, and I tried to beat the hell out of the little brat in order to defend myself. (Quite unsuccessfully.)
I won't go into the full details of my day but I'll just describe the incident itself. I was sitting in the van, parked, with 2 clients while the other staff member popped into the store quickly to grab something for one of the clients to drink. (Shall we call him the perpetrator? Is that a little too dramatic?) While we sat there, I was in the middle seat buckled next to a little 6 year old client, and behind me sat a much bigger approximately 12 year old client. (He was taller than myself, but that's not saying much.)
He was pretty irritated because we had gone to do a children's activity where there were LOTS of other kids because it was school holidays and raining, so the park was out of the question. We had to leave early before he had a "meltdown." (Code term at my workplace which means: do something shitty. This ranges from running across a street half naked into oncoming traffic, screaming in a public place in such a manner as to make other people question parenting and/or caregiver skills, or attacking someone.)
As we sat in the car I was helping the other boy to sort out his lunch, peel his orange, etc. The "perps" dad hadn't packed a full lunch for him, as he requested we just grab him some "hot chips and a coke." (Absolutely no comment on how many times a week I hear this comment.) While the other staff was grabbing him a coke I turned around to offer him a slice of the other little boy's orange.
Wrong move, apparently. He instantly grabbed my right arm with both his hands and a look came over his face that I can only akin to the look my dog gets right before he runs throughout the whole house covered in mud and carrying something he's found outside in the dirt.
I asked him to please let go of my arm. He took the orange slice so I relaxed a little bit, but wouldn't let go and then thew the orange towards the front of the van. I asked him again to let go. His grip tightened. Starting to get a bit worried, but failing to hide the strain in my voice, I asked him again. He proceeded to start screaming, and put his legs up on the back of my seat, on either side of my head and began kicking with full force. I tried to stand up but was buckled in, and my pulling on his arm only brought his legs closer to my head and face. I turned away from him and this only made him aim at the back of my head with his legs. I began screaming at full lung capacity. "LET GO OF MY ARM!" over and over again.
(All of this with the van door wide open in an extremely busy parking lot, but with no bystander intervention.)
It is truly a miracle that I didn't curse at the boy because I do curse like a sailor, but that's besides the point. At this point I started to do the only thing I could think of: digging my nails into his arm. This was unsuccesful.
Finally, the boy slipped and kicked the 6 year old in the head.
After that I don't remember what happened, I only know that I must have unbuckled my seat belt and done some extreme lurching because the next thing I knew I was carrying the little boy out of the van, had sustained a sprained hamstring, and the other staff member was back shortly thereafter.
She asked if everything was ok because I was putting the other little boy upfront.
I was shaking and shaking (but not yet crying) and told her what had happened. I'm shaking again as I write this, but at least I'm not crying anymore.
After we got back (we can't drop the boys off before 3:15 because there is no facility for them to sit and wait or play, so we had to just drive around for the next several hours with very irritated boys in the car) we made an incident report about what had happened.
I drove home crying. I got home and cried some more. I called my mom at 2 AM in Texas and cried to her (a rarity for me). I went to my media make-up course and cried when someone asked "How was your day?" I got home and saw my husband and cried to him. I went to training the next day and found another supervisor at work to tell again what had happened in more detail, and cried to her. And then I told her I won't be doing those shifts anymore, but that if they had another position in a different capacity I would think about that.
They offered me counseling of course because I looked like an insane person, but this happens all the time at that workplace; I declined. The woman I spoke to in detail told me it would happen again, it always happens again, she just couldn't tell me when. I told her that given I normally work with adults, if this had been one of them, I wouldn't have any teeth at the moment, so I think I'll call it a day.
This was different.
I was terrified, I was alone, and I tried to beat the hell out of the little brat in order to defend myself. (Quite unsuccessfully.)
I won't go into the full details of my day but I'll just describe the incident itself. I was sitting in the van, parked, with 2 clients while the other staff member popped into the store quickly to grab something for one of the clients to drink. (Shall we call him the perpetrator? Is that a little too dramatic?) While we sat there, I was in the middle seat buckled next to a little 6 year old client, and behind me sat a much bigger approximately 12 year old client. (He was taller than myself, but that's not saying much.)
He was pretty irritated because we had gone to do a children's activity where there were LOTS of other kids because it was school holidays and raining, so the park was out of the question. We had to leave early before he had a "meltdown." (Code term at my workplace which means: do something shitty. This ranges from running across a street half naked into oncoming traffic, screaming in a public place in such a manner as to make other people question parenting and/or caregiver skills, or attacking someone.)
As we sat in the car I was helping the other boy to sort out his lunch, peel his orange, etc. The "perps" dad hadn't packed a full lunch for him, as he requested we just grab him some "hot chips and a coke." (Absolutely no comment on how many times a week I hear this comment.) While the other staff was grabbing him a coke I turned around to offer him a slice of the other little boy's orange.
Wrong move, apparently. He instantly grabbed my right arm with both his hands and a look came over his face that I can only akin to the look my dog gets right before he runs throughout the whole house covered in mud and carrying something he's found outside in the dirt.
I asked him to please let go of my arm. He took the orange slice so I relaxed a little bit, but wouldn't let go and then thew the orange towards the front of the van. I asked him again to let go. His grip tightened. Starting to get a bit worried, but failing to hide the strain in my voice, I asked him again. He proceeded to start screaming, and put his legs up on the back of my seat, on either side of my head and began kicking with full force. I tried to stand up but was buckled in, and my pulling on his arm only brought his legs closer to my head and face. I turned away from him and this only made him aim at the back of my head with his legs. I began screaming at full lung capacity. "LET GO OF MY ARM!" over and over again.
(All of this with the van door wide open in an extremely busy parking lot, but with no bystander intervention.)
It is truly a miracle that I didn't curse at the boy because I do curse like a sailor, but that's besides the point. At this point I started to do the only thing I could think of: digging my nails into his arm. This was unsuccesful.
Finally, the boy slipped and kicked the 6 year old in the head.
After that I don't remember what happened, I only know that I must have unbuckled my seat belt and done some extreme lurching because the next thing I knew I was carrying the little boy out of the van, had sustained a sprained hamstring, and the other staff member was back shortly thereafter.
She asked if everything was ok because I was putting the other little boy upfront.
I was shaking and shaking (but not yet crying) and told her what had happened. I'm shaking again as I write this, but at least I'm not crying anymore.
After we got back (we can't drop the boys off before 3:15 because there is no facility for them to sit and wait or play, so we had to just drive around for the next several hours with very irritated boys in the car) we made an incident report about what had happened.
I drove home crying. I got home and cried some more. I called my mom at 2 AM in Texas and cried to her (a rarity for me). I went to my media make-up course and cried when someone asked "How was your day?" I got home and saw my husband and cried to him. I went to training the next day and found another supervisor at work to tell again what had happened in more detail, and cried to her. And then I told her I won't be doing those shifts anymore, but that if they had another position in a different capacity I would think about that.
They offered me counseling of course because I looked like an insane person, but this happens all the time at that workplace; I declined. The woman I spoke to in detail told me it would happen again, it always happens again, she just couldn't tell me when. I told her that given I normally work with adults, if this had been one of them, I wouldn't have any teeth at the moment, so I think I'll call it a day.
Comments
I would take the counselling if I were you. I found it helpful after another student took a swing at me...
On Aug 7th I'm going to a course on 'responding to violent and aggressive students".
Does sound like you did the right thing getting out.
They did offer me a 2-day course on self-defence but it's in October...
Hope that you can work all this out.