Dear Annie: I’ve been a teacher for 19 years. I’ve quit my job and have what I think are panic attacks when I think about going back.
Throughout my career as a mandated reporter, I’ve had to call the authorities multiple times, and I’ve always been a shoulder for children who’ve been abused to cry on. I never let it interfere with my attitude. I was always able to move on and not let it get me down.
However, this last year broke me. I had two second grade students who changed everything, and those rose-colored glasses I managed to keep on through 18 years of hearing horror stories and teaching some very traumatized kids just shattered to pieces.
One was a boy who’d been found living under a bridge with his drug-addicted mother. He was sent to live with his grandparents temporarily. During the year, he’d confide in me some of the things that’d happened to him. I’d listen and tell him how glad I was that he was now safe. His grandmother had Stage 4 cancer and reached the point where she was dying, so toward the end of the year, he was shipped off to an aunt’s house in another state.
That night, I cried so hard. I just had this intense feeling that this isn’t fair. This little boy had gone through so much, he was finally safe and was now being shipped away to someone he barely knew.
The same year, I had another student who the school called the authorities for multiple times. Nothing was ever done. In January, he disappeared. His aunt called the principal, worried and begging us to call the police for a welfare check. My principal called the sheriff’s office. The deputies talked to the dad and told my principal they didn’t have probable cause to do anything. Three months later, a 4-month-old baby in the house was found dead and the parents were charged with multiple counts of abuse.
I feel so angry, sad and regretful. Maybe if we’d called more times, it would’ve made a difference. I’m angry that the Department of Children’s Services and the deputies didn’t do anything before the baby died. I’m angry that no one protected those little kids. I’m sad it took a 4-month-old baby dying for the authorities to do something.
I’m not sure why these two boys affected me more than all the others I’ve taught, but I keep finding myself never wanting to go back to teaching. I feel like I’m still mourning a loss that was never mine. I didn’t lose anything except being able to see the world through rose-colored glasses. When I try to talk to my husband, he gets irritated, telling me to get over it and let it go. I realize I’m being irrational, but I can’t seem to shake this off.
— A Teacher’s Heavy Heart
Dear Heavy Heart: You’re not irrational. For almost two decades, you opened your heart to children who needed you, and eventually, the weight of it all became too much.
Please don’t blame yourself. You and your school reported your concerns. You couldn’t control what the authorities did or didn’t do, and the failures of the system aren’t on you.
The panic, anger and sadness you’ve described deserve more than being told to “get over it.” Find a counselor who can help you work through this grief and understand why these last two children hit you so hard.
And if you never return to teaching, that’s OK. It doesn’t erase any of the good you’ve already done. For 19 years, countless children had a teacher who listened, cared and tried to protect them. That matters more than you realize.