My childhood friend, Rayvathy never failed to say “I will go and come back” in Tamil to her mother as she walked with me to school. In reply, her mother would say, “Go and come back.” I heard it so often, I could still say those phrases over 20 years later. It seems an appropriate way to say good-bye. Although I have never taught it to my children, for some reason, my four-year old son has taken to standing next to his sister to wave good-bye to me and call out, “You come back later okay?” It has become his mantra.

It never quite occurred to me how big a challenge is saying good-bye for children until I worked with a globally-developmental delayed five-year old a few months ago. It became apparent how that difficulty was “acted out in inappropriate manner”; usually termed as tantruming or having a “meltdown”.

My son used to insist I sent him right up to his classroom. The good-bye would only happen after he has changed his pair of shoes (the children have to wear another pair of “indoor” shoes upon arrival), place his notebook (used as a communication book between parents and teachers) on the teacher’s desk, park his water tumbler at a designated corner and hang up his little knapsack.

After 10 weeks of school, I decided to nudge my son towards another mini milestone: to say good-bye at the school lobby. Since day four when school first began in January, most four-year olds were dropped off at the lobby where they would remove their shoes and walk themselves to their classrooms. My son hadn’t been ready for this. I tried it once; I asked him if I could drop him instead of walk him to the classroom. There was silence. I asked him to give it a try. Reluctantly he said yes. Unfortunately, the teachers on duty that day were unfamiliar to him and they greeted him in Mandarin and Malay. He hollered unashamedly as I drove off. I had to park my car and walk him to his classroom.

A few days later, I asked him again. He looked stressed. He sat very still when the teacher opened the car door for him. I told him to get down and I would come to him after I parked the car. He got off but wailed again.

The next week, we tried again. He put on a brave face. Fortunately, the teachers on duty were familiar to him. Then he quickly asked me which way to his classroom. “Turn left as you walk in. If you are not sure, just ask okay?” I said. He nodded and repeated, “turn left” and hopped off as a teacher came forward to help him. He didn’t wave. I guessed he must have been pre-occupied with the flurry of activity around him; the teachers were greeting him and there were other kids sitting on the steps removing their shoes. It didn’t occur to me that I had used a different entrance when I walked him to his classroom. No wonder he was being apprehensive about his sense of direction.

The following day, I asked if I could drop him off again. He said yes more confidently. As we approached the lobby, I asked if he remembered to bring his “good manners” with him. “Yes, I got it”, he replied. Previously he would be tongue-tied whenever his teachers offered him a greeting. I would usually say softly in his ear, “Oops, you forgot to bring your good manners. Don’t forget to bring them with you okay?”

For the past few days, each time I asked if I could say good-bye at the lobby, he would say, “Mummy, yes, you can always do that. Always. And, I also remember to bring my good manners with me.”

I beamed happily.

“Why are you smiling, Mummy?”

“Oh, I feel very happy to hear that I can always drop you off at the lobby. It means that you have grown up a little,” I said hugging him. He rewarded me with a broad grin.

So for my son, the difficulty of saying good-bye for him was further compounded by his awareness of his inability to communicate in foreign languages and a host of other new experiences. This understanding didn’t occur to me until I began to reflect on my work with my five-year old student. As his teacher cum therapist, I was ever so mindful of all my responses and reactions to him during my nine-hour per week sessions with him. Due to his challenges, I could see very clearly all the antecedent factors leading to his “meltdowns” (tantrums). Working with this boy required my full awareness of his moment-to-moment responses and reactions. Although I only worked with him for a short term of three months, the experience and lessons I learnt were worth a lifetime for me. In reality, he was my teacher.

In many countries, preventive education and appropriate counseling interventions have been successful in breaking the patterns of abuse. However, in order to teach prevention techniques effectively, we need to examine our social, cultural and religious attitudes about sex roles, family life, sexuality and violence.

Experts believe education is an effective preventive measure as it breaks through the silence and denial that have long tolerated child sexual abuse and thus, decreases the level of public acceptance. It increases access to resources for treatment and intervention by young people. More importantly, through education, children will understand and be more aware of issues related to sexual violence.

However, this does not mean the children would receive too much explicit information about sexuality. On the contrary, prevention education focusing on the dissemination of factual information about child sexual abuse and the development of skills would empower a child to avoid or to resist an approach by a perpetrator. Children without information and resources have few defenses against those who seek to harm them.

Prevention education within a religious context will allow children to discuss values, teachings and scripture as it relates to this topic. Given our general reticence to discuss sex, it is of vital importance that teachers (and parents) teaching the material have the correct attitudes and understanding about sexuality (factual information) and the correct religious perspectives on all matters related to sexuality.

Teachers with the correct information and right attitudes will be able to impart the right sentiment to children of all ages in the accurate language appropriate to them. Through a well-structured programme, our children will not only learn about personal safety but coping skills and core values such as self-esteem, empathy and respect.