I got hit in the face this past week. I’m a special education teacher these days, so in my current line of work while that’s unexpected it’s also very much expected. It’s basically just a bad day at work.

Over the past few years I’ve been hit, kicked, shoved, scratched, bitten, sworn at, threatened, had desks, chairs, and all sorts of other stuff thrown at me, and dealt with and been covered in just about every bodily fluid elementary school students can excrete, not to mention being covered in all the globs of macaroni and cheese or whatever other food is on the menu. So, why note getting hit? It wasn’t a bad punch. It knocked off my glasses, but didn’t break them or even leave a physical mark. It was one of those hits that came at the wrong time though and for that moment I broke into tears.

It happens to all of us who work in our schools today, especially in schools like mine that serve significant populations of students who are from low income families, struggle with maintaining housing and paying their bills, and who often have generations of history that tell them school success isn’t meant for them. Eventually, our hearts break.

I felt the tears come to my eyes as soon as the student’s hand hit my cheek. I knew I needed support to address the situation, so I called on a staff member in the hall nearby to takeover and I walked as quickly as I could to the office space I share with the other special education teachers at my school. I was crumbling. I was a broken mirror in which each of my colleagues could see themselves. One went to get ice and a health care staff person to check my cheek. The others each offered support and let me cry out my tears. They created a safe space for me for which I will always be thankful.

The hit hurt not because of the hand that landed on my cheek, but because I’d spent my day, like more and more days lately, trying to help not only this student but others, my students who simply don’t have the emotional skills to handle being homeless or dealing with any other horrendous and unfair situations they and their families are in. So often their emotions fly all over. One moment they seem to be fine, calm and settled. The next they’re screaming and throwing chairs. It worsens as their life situations become more chaotic and all I can do so often is just try to be that steady safe person they can trust. That can be good and it can be hard. After all, I’m the one they know won’t hit back. They can show their anger, fear, and sorrow, and it hurts.

It’s tiring. I don’t know how to change the situation in our schools, but I do know it can’t go on like this. I took a day off to just take care of myself before coming back to help my kids again. That helped me for the moment and gave me the strength I needed to give to these kids again, but it’s no solution. We ultimately have to stop focusing on teaching subjects and start focusing on teaching and caring for kids. There has to be a way. These beautiful kids deserve the best.