In my last post, I stated that I was going to write about some of the damaged children I have come across in my teaching career, explaining what support was given and the impact this had on them and their classmates. This is the first of these posts.
Tahira was in Year 2 when I met her, and although I didn’t teach her, she was frequently in my classroom.
The school had bright, airy classrooms arranged along the side of a very long corridor. As well as the main classroom door onto this corridor, each of the classrooms also had an interconnecting door between them, which functioned as the fire escape route.
On my first day there, whilst in the middle of the introduction to a lesson, this connecting door was flung open and Tahira rushed in, screaming. She ran around the room, pushed past the children at the…
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