I help out with first graders and all of them are extremely sweet...most of the time. I really enjoy helping out with them and playing with them. Anyway, in our class we have an autistic child who shall be dubbed Jason. Jason doesn't normally talk; the most he's ever said is "Ahhhh!" He normally just looks at books and makes noises and normally has Mr. Baxtor there to help out with him.

This time, however, Mr. Baxtor was late and I was told to play with Jason. (I've only been around a few autistic children, and none like Jason.) Jason's mother, who had dropped him off, had told us that Jason was upset today and had a tendency to wander off. So I sat down with Jason and he got out a picture book of space. He then spoke--My eyes got wide--and said, "This is space." 

I start thinking, "Ok, this will be easy as long as he keeps looking at the book."  Then the unimaginable happened: Jason started hitting himself! He put his hands together and started hitting his chin and forehead. From the sound of it, he wasn't hitting himself lightly either and he started yelling. I started freaking out and didn't have the slightest idea how to make him stop hitting himself. He then looked at me and with the heels of his hand, hit me twice on each cheekbone. I now have a bruise (and apparently, I bled a little) but the funny thing is, at the time I was more worried about Jason who went back to hitting himself.

As if sensing my distress, the teacher finally came over and said, "It's okay Jason," looking at me, she added,"You just need to rub his back." That would have been nice to know five minutes ago. At that moment, Mr. Baxtor comes in and takes care of Jason.

All of this makes me feel stupid and upset because I couldn't do anything. It also makes me sorry for Jason.  I just really wish I could've done something.