“These Children Come in Needing Help – And Yet I Feel Like the One Walking Away With More to Gain”
Humans of Medicine #18
Picture this.
You’re feeling sad. You describe it the best way you can, only for nobody to understand you. You attempt to explain yourself over and over. It’s as clear as day for you, but why doesn’t anyone else get it? You begin to get frustrated, and angry. Maybe you start shouting. Or crying – large, heaving sobs that make it harder for you to speak. At this point, people start backing away. Maybe they get mad too and yell back at you. They give up on listening. They leave. You’re alone, and feeling worse than before.
This is a struggle that children with developmental delays face every day. They don’t perceive the world the same way we do. Their feelings are often amplified, making it harder to maintain composure with a vortex of emotions swirling about. The root of all this is mere communication, and that’s what we special educators do at the centre. We figure out what the child is telling us, how they’re doing so, and then we use that same mode of communication to ‘speak’ back to them.
Watching my superiors interact with these children has made me so much more appreciative of the child psychology field. Special educators are so underrated; I don’t think they get as much recognition as they deserve. Teaching children itself is already tiring as it is, but teaching children with special needs? That’s a whole different battle; one that is more delicate, that requires more patience, that necessitates more care. These are kindred souls doing the job that has to be done.
I’m always telling myself: You have to have one foot in and one foot out. Don’t bring the work home. I know friends who’ve left the industry simply because they couldn’t handle the emotional weight. You can’t get too invested, or it takes a toll on you.
What most people tend to misunderstand about these children is that their behavioural conditions aren’t simply binary. It’s not black and white – there is a whole spectrum of colours. There’s no one-size-fits-all modus operandi when it comes to these children. You really have to be persistent and adapt to each individual, which is probably the most difficult part of the job. But as exhausting as the work is, I still get excited to go to the centre every day. These children come in needing help – yet I feel like the one walking away with more to gain. I’m learning so much from them, and it’s such a rewarding experience.
People might think, “Ala, budak ni takleh lah tolong,” (This boy is hopeless, there’s no point in helping him) when in reality, they’re just as full of potential as any other child. Next time you catch yourself getting irritated by a child with special needs acting out, remember that they’re not misbehaving – just misunderstood.
Children are our future, and these kids deserve a chance to build the world as much as any other child does. And if not us to help them get there, then who?
(Consent has been obtained from the interviewee for the purpose of this publication. The author has rewritten the article with permission from the interviewee.)
Humans of Medicine is a new initiative under MMI. We tell inspiring stories behind portrait shots of our everyday unsung heroes. Curated by Malaysian medical students from home and abroad.
If you have a story you would like to share, please reach out to us at admin@malaysianmedics.org.
About the author
Hong Jingqi is a second year medical student from University College Dublin who plays the piano and bakes in her free time when she's not missing the warm weather in Malaysia.
