One of my friends came to school yesterday, limping heavily. She explained, “I was bad, so Daddy punched me in the leg.”
My assistant teacher, who was the one who greeted our friend off the bus, said later that she nearly threw up, right then and there. Who hits a preschooler?
We took her to the nurse, where she was examined and given ice packs and treated with love and care, and then I found the social worker to tell her what was going on. Meanwhile, kids were arriving, I had a mom in the room, and two of my volunteers hadn’t shown up but we had a big party to get ready for.
The social worker called Child Protection, but they declined to do anything that day. (They will investigate, and will come to school today to talk to the child.) We had to send her home on the bus at the end of the morning.
She said, “I will go to my room and shut the door and lock it so Daddy can’t come in and punch me.”
I’ve been sick with worry and anger ever since.