An Appropriate Adult

I’m not as easily shocked as I used to be. It’s a fact of life that some people have really shitty parents and really hard childhoods. It’s good when you see them getting on with their lives, trying to make a go of things, refusing to let that rotten start ruin the rest of their time on this earth.

This happened. I was talking to her for about 45 minutes and she was telling me about her life up to now. About the beatings she took and the emotional abuse and neglect she suffered. And she’s only 16 but has much more courage than I’m used to seeing. She has plans and ambitions. She’s not broken by it.

Twenty minutes after she left me she was attacked by another female. No real reason for it at all. It was a violent, unprovoked attack that left her bloody and sore. And it happened while I was under the same roof as her. And I knew nothing about it until it was over.

She’s scared now but still not broken.

And me? I’m supposed to be an appropriate adult. I wish I could have prevented what happened. All I can do is write risk assessments, write reports and offer support but I can’t leave the premises to act as an appropriate adult. I just pick up broken pieces. Except she’s not broken. Not yet.