I had gotten a speeding ticket the week before. Texts and calls were still getting lost in the universe. Maybe the washing machine repair man had really tried to call? Something was in the air on this morning too.
I am a school psychologist who works for specialized programs for students with significant special education needs. These programs are housed in our local districts and sprinkled all over the damn place. I drive to see each student. I dip in and out of a new environment every time I finish one task and begin another. There is a unique flavor everywhere, and usually that’s something I enjoy.
Unless everything is on fire.
This happens sometimes. Blame it on the full moon or whatever else you like, but sometimes, it just blows up at once. Ask teachers; they’ll tell you.
I have a weird job. Literal angry poop throwing and snotty grateful sobbing hugs are not every day occurrences, but they are on the menu. Neither of those things happened on this particular day and the events of that day were no one’s business but the people who were there. But yikes! Everyone was bathed in cortisol. Adults were upset. Kids were upset. If my day was happening in a bubble, it would have been a fine enough day. It was sure as hell not.
And that is how I got my second speeding ticket on the same damn road, going even faster the second time.
The officer was just as young.
This time, I cried. I do believe we had a full conversation, but I mostly remember repeating, “I was just trying to help.”
Two tickets. Not my finest work. The message could not be more literal.
Slow down.
I really, extra suck at this one, which is why I received such quick remediation.
No. Really. Slow the fuck down.
I was just trying to help.
I am not sure what help would have looked like in any of the situations I was in that day. I sometimes find myself standing in the middle of someone else’s storm armed with a graduate degree and decade of experience and at a total loss about what in the world to do in the next moment.
Crisis feels like crisis in my body, whether I am at work or not. That is not to say you don’t want me on your team if your student is in crisis. I am not sure you would know what was happening with me if you were standing next to me. Every other professional I know is also in possession of a human body. It’s not just a me thing. I do my best work in a crisis when I use what I am feeling to help other people understand what they might be feeling.
Empathy is absolutely invited into my vehicle when I roll out with my test kits and clipboards every morning. She can even drive sometimes. But not when she is up to her eyeballs in yuck and wants to go 19 over in a school zone. I need to some work on self-regulation if I’m going to let her make choices like that. I need one of her sisters to drive while she gets her shit together.
She’ll be fine.
There’s probably even a french fry under the seat somewhere if she needs a snack.
