So I started this new job working with autistic kids. I didn't think that office work was where my interest laid and I wanted something more hands on and that would make a difference. I also had a momentary lapse in judgement when I thought that working with children was something that I would either a) be good at or b) enjoy.
I had visions of changing these kids' lives forever, reinventing myself and the world of autism, and making my way up the chain of social work (which I don't actually think is something that is possible to do). I was very excited on my first day. I just knew that I would be able to reach the kids in a way that no one had ever been able to and that everyone I was working with would LOVE me.
They don't understand any of my jokes. Their loss.
When I called to ask about dress code, I was told to wear jeans, sneakers, no dangly earrings, and no heels. Um, what? Earrings and heels and nice clothes are all I ever wear. I almost started hyperventilating.
Ahem. Anyway, I met the kids (who really are very adorable) - all boys from the ages of 7 to 13. To say that I was thrown into the fire on my first day would be a wild understatement. My first task? To assist the Senior Therapist in the bathroom with one of the 13 year old boys while he pooed. POOED. I had to hold his hands while he sat on the toilet. I wanted to throw up. My eyes were burning. It took all of my strength not to call my old manager and beg her for my job back.
I then shadowed another therapist while she worked with the lowest functioning kid who screamed, cried, and hit himself in the head. I wanted to do the same thing.
Don't get me wrong - it's gotten a lot better now that I know the kids better and I hide every time a bathroom run has to be made. It's still terrifying when a kid throws a tantrum (think kicking, screaming, and being restrained with desks), but I also run to the other side of the room when that occurs and hide behind the other children.
One of the more entertaining parts of this job is when they are in gym class. I say the following with all of the love and respect that I have for these kids (which is a lot, honestly - I do love those children). It is hilarious. One sits there hitting a ball and yelling. Another is running in circles by himself. Yet another is sitting on the bench clapping to no one. I want to film it. It's amazing.
Okay, seriously, these are genuinely fantastic kids. They're affectionate and so much fun (even if they don't realize it). I get cuddles from them daily and children really do say the darndest things. I'm just not cut out to be a person of authority for any kid because I end up at their level, which usually involves telling jokes about farting. And I'm certainly not cut out to be a person of authority for children with special needs because I am just not qualified and I don't want to be. I don't want to push them to do things. I just want to watch them and give them high fives when they don't hit someone else.
And speaking of hitting? I was punched by a 7 year old. That little bugger was STRONG. I think I was trying to get him to pretend he was licking an ice cream cone and he really didn't want to and completely zoned out. So I, using my amazing abilities that I'd picked up in 3 days on the job, tried to bring him back to earth by getting him to repeat my sentence of "hip hip". He yelled out "hooray", jumped up, and socked me in the head. My glasses fell off for Christ's sake. Did he get punished? NOPE. But I certainly took off and went to play games with the child that doesn't hit and that can actually say words.
So, to summarize: I am not cut out to look after children. I do not particularly like children. I DO however enjoy working in an office, wearing nice clothes, and not having to monitor when kids have to go to the bathroom or tell them to stop putting their food in their ears. Who would have thought? I love the kids, don't get me wrong. But doing this as a career? Hell no.
Love,
Bella
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