By:
Elizabeth Redhead Kriston
As a mandated reporter, I didn’t expect to
find myself in the role of suspected child abuser. I should have been nervous
and worried when I called the guidance counselor that day. I mean my daughter
did just divulge that the school counselor asked her to explain why her
friends had reported that her parent’s “hold her down and beat her.”
When my daughter first shared this juicy
nugget of information that a parent never wants to hear, I cycled through a
series of emotions. I felt fear, rage, pride, mirth and curiosity to name a
few.
The 5 Emotions
1. My fear emerged from that primal
place that opens when parents think that Children and Youth or Child and Family
Services is waiting around every corner judging and plotting ways to remove our
children from our care and place them in a foster home or an orphanage then
lock us up behind steel bars for eternity. I mean who would complete all the
forgotten and mundane chores like filling the napkin holder or changing the
toothpaste crusted hand towel if I was carted away?
2. My rage came from the fact that
my daughter’s school “friends” have been causing her trouble all year long. She
comes home daily in tears due to the stress of lunchtime table talk and what
she characterizes as “bullying.” Perhaps these kids just found a new way to
torment her and bring me down too.
3. My pride was rooted in the
knowledge that she has friends who care enough to keep her safe by reporting
what they perceive to be potential safety concerns to trusted adults. I am
proud of the school for creating a safe place for kids to report concerns. I am
proud that I have established an open and trusting relationship which
allows my daughter to feel safe sharing tough information. I am proud that I
have restrained my primal urges to hold her down and beat her as she finds new
and creative ways to test my ever-thinning patience.
4. My mirth rose from the fact that
I find much of what goes on in middle school a bit ridiculous. If I don’t
laugh, I’ll cry. So, I choose to laugh as much as possible.
5. My curiosity propelled me
to ask questions like “why on God’s green earth would your friends think that I
hold you down and beat you?” The same curiosity drove me directly to the phone
to dial the number for the school and press the extension number for the sixth-grade
guidance counselor in hopes of diffusing the situation by pleading my case.
"I must accept the fact that I will most likely never know the answer to the most basic questions.
My daughter is not the best story teller.
Getting a straight answer is never
possible. She takes more side streets and dead ends on her way to explaining
every single thing in her life. I must accept the fact that I will most likely
never know the answer to the most basic questions.
For example, I will ask her, What did you eat for lunch today? She
will say, Well you see… and then
proceed to tell me everything that happened before, during and after lunch
without revealing what she ate.
This, of course, goes on for over an hour
as she takes long pauses before embarking on tangents as each word she says
reminds her of something else that she needs
to tell me. My job is to keep her on track which usually requires fervent
directives like, “Makena! Stay focused!” or “Makena, stop!” over and over until
I finally forget what we were actually talking about.
"My prodding her for more information revealed a story that was bit more elaborate and much more disturbing.
On this day, her story required further investigation.
Though I appreciated the brevity of her story, I felt more detail, as to how or
why her friends believed I held her down and beat her, was important, very important.
My prodding her for more information
revealed a story that was bit more elaborate and much more disturbing.
She told me that her friends did not say
that we beat her, but rather, that we
held her down so her older sister could beat her. Ahh, much better…ugh. While this
never happened, I guarantee you that her sister has fantasized about doing this.
So, here I was waiting for the beep on the
voicemail to leave my semi-panicked message for the school counselor because,
of course, she was gone for the day. I too would have raced home at the end of
the school day after trying to sort out the brain numbing issues of pubescent, emotionally
immature and needy twelve-year olds. God love her.
I had to accept the fact that this drama would
not be resolved until morning. After breathing in deeply and counting to ten, I
plastered a look that mimicked calm and pleasantness on my face as I attempted
to comfort my daughter’s fears that “the police were going to come and take you
to jail.”
I must admit that I was listening
carefully for the county car the social worker drives to pull into our
driveway. I also knew that because I did not actually hold my daughter down and beat
her, things would work out fine, or so I hoped.
My daughter spent the night worrying and
apologizing. She insisted that she had no idea why her friends would say such a
thing. I had a good idea why...she told them that.
My daughter loves to watch television, and
she has a creative mind that likes to reimagine dramatic scenes. She acts them out
while talking and gesticulating to herself in the mirror. Sometimes, I think her
reality and fantasy worlds blur together. She better grow-up to be a rich actor
and buy me a gorgeous lake house. She owes me that much.
"She was confident that we were good parents who do not hold their daughter down so her sister can beat her.
The next morning the counselor
called. I thanked her for all she does and commended her on surviving a long
year dealing with my daughter and her friends and all the drama that they
created. My daughter spent many hours talking and crying to this counselor and
I was truly grateful that she did not ignore or tire of her intense needs.
We laughed a bit at the dramas of middle
school girls. We reflected on how things had evolved or devolved over the year.
We danced around the real purpose of the call, did she call the authorities on me. Did she think I was a child abuser?
Not able to avoid it any longer I said, So Makena’s friends told you I beat her.
She said, Yes, they did. Pause.
Pause. Excruciatingly long pause. She wasn’t revealing her hand.
With a shaky voice and a half laugh, half
cry I replied, You know that is not true,
right? She responded in her best counselor voice, The fact that she went home and told you what happened and that you are
calling today tells me my instinct to not believe the story was correct. I
exhaled the breath I was inadvertently holding and took in some much-needed
oxygenated air. I no longer felt woozy or faint.
She informed me that she had not called
CYS “though she probably should have.” She told me she and Makena had a nice
long talk and she determined that the information from the friends was false.
She was confident that we were good parents who do not hold their daughter down
so her sister can beat her. Yeah!
I work closely with families and have met
hundreds over the years. Some are good parents some are scary parents. Most
love their kids deeply and irrevocably. All of them make mistakes because
parenting is tough, really tough.
Every parent fears that with each misstep
some well-meaning neighbor or family member will call the authorities on them.
Being a mandated reporter means that I am required to report everything I see
that could be abuse. For example, if I see a car drive down the street with a
small child not in a car seat, I am supposed to call that in to Childline.
We are living in a world where we are
legally as well as morally bound to look after our littlest citizens and keep
them safe. While it is uncomfortable, I am happy that we are holding adults, especially
those who are charged with caring for children in a variety of capacities, accountable
for protecting all kids.
Knowing when or if something is really abuse is not our
jobs. Recognizing the common signs of abuse and alerting those whose job it is
to investigate abuse is. While I am grateful that our school counselor knew
that the stories of preteens are not always truth and therefore she should not
react hastily by reporting heresay to the authorities, I would not have been
angry if she had felt compelled to make the call.
We must make a lot of tough choices in the world. Just like
I tell my girls, you have to trust your gut even if you might be
wrong. Protecting ourselves and the children around us is so important. We
cannot dwell on the what ifs especially if we are risking the safety, health or
well-being of someone smaller and weaker.
How to Report Suspected Child Abuse
- Professionals who are mandated reporters must follow the rules of their county and state.
- Each state has a toll free number that anyone can call. Find your states number here: https://www.childwelfare.gov/organizations/?CWIGFunctionsaction=rols:main.dspList&rolType=Custom&RS_ID=5
- If you are unsure what to do, a crisis hotline will help. Call 1.800.4.A.CHILD (1.800.422.4453).
- A variety of other resources can be found at https://www.childwelfare.gov/aboutus/find-help/
No comments:
Post a Comment