Abused At School

  There is not one single relationship in my life that has not been destroyed by this unconstitutional invasion of privacy that started in Sitka.

  'Do not be afraid of them. God Himself goes before you." No more apt words could have come to mind. Since the day we left Sitka, God was not the only one going before us. It was obvious when interacting with someone new if they had been contacted first, been shown a picture of me, talked about me.

  So just before the dead of winter in what I call the 'real' Alaska - Delta Junction - when I contacted the local school about a preschool program I had heard about on the radio - it came as no surprise when they started acting weird with us.

  So weird that even the base commander commented on it.

  Isaac up until that time had happily been spending time at home with quite a few jaunts to the outside world with daddy to the headquarters building on base. Isaac's favorite person to visit was the base commander who always took time out for who I'm sure was his favorite visitor also. When the commander had to get back to work, Isaac would charm the rest of the building with his sweet, outgoing personality.

  So when the local school came back with an assessment of how they felt Isaac had interacted with the other children during the hour or so time I had left him there, as 'shy' - the commander immediately exclaimed - 'Have they met him?'.

  Kent wasn't hip about the idea of preschool, especially one that seemed to be centered around special needs kids. Before contacting the school I had not been aware that this was their focus. However, I had nothing against it and felt actually that exposing Isaac to children with challenges would help develop an empathy in him. But I also agreed with Kent that he would not receive the sort of undivided attention I could give him at home, especially since the caregivers obviously had children with severe issues to take care of.

  So we decided to back out of the idea of the preschool. It was when I had to go back to the school for the paperwork that I knew once again that I was being treated like a lab rat - a psychological experiment - to see how I reacted to something.

  I entered the office and on a computer screen facing the counter where I had to stand was the most horrendous picture on the screen of an abused child I had ever seen. I immediately grimaced and turned my eyes. The office worker smiled and said they send those all the time. Seriously? I don't want to see that. She made no attempt to get rid of the offending sight and actually seemed to take pleasure in my discomfort. The poor child had been burned from head to toe. And I left the school office feeling just as abused as that innocent child.