My son lost his spark after being abused at childcare, but taekwondo helped heal him

Watching her bubbly son change after he was abused at childcare left this mother fearful and searching for ways to help. But a patient taekwondo coach helped the boy rediscover his confidence and joy.

The names of the writer and her son have been changed to protect their privacy.

From the moment he entered our lives, my son Adam became the brightest light in our world.

Even before turning two, he showed a level of independence and agency that constantly amazed us. He would assist with the laundry, mop the floor and insist on going to the toilet by himself.

He was curious and adventurous. Whenever we were out, he would wave at strangers, say hello to them and explore his surroundings without hesitation. Watching him grow into such a confident little boy filled my husband and me with so much joy.

He started attending childcare in early 2024, at the age of 18 months. As time went by, we slowly began to notice changes that we couldn't explain.

Every evening, Adam would become increasingly anxious. Almost every night, he would wake between 1am and 3am, crying uncontrollably. We would ask him what was wrong, but he would only wail louder.

We even recorded some of these episodes on our phones, because we simply couldn't understand what was happening.

Mornings were equally difficult. On many occasions, when we tried to put on his school uniform, he would cry. He also became fearful of going to the toilet by himself, like he used to, and even being washed.

Soon, we began noticing another change that worried us deeply.

WORRYING CHANGES AND MARKS

Before starting childcare, Adam was vocal and had a healthy vocabulary for his age. As the months went by, he became quieter and quieter. When he did speak, his speech also seemed increasingly slurred.

At that time, we didn't know what he was experiencing when he was at school, out of our sight.

Like many parents, we wondered if it was just a phase. Was he simply adjusting to school? Was he feeling unwell?

Without any answers, it got harder and harder to watch our boy changing in ways we couldn't explain, becoming less and less himself.

Adam started coming home with unusual marks – scratches, bruises and bumps on his head.

When we asked his teachers and principal about them, there was always an excuse: Adam fell from his chair. Adam's friend pushed him. Adam bumped into another kid.

And then one day, Adam came home from school with a long bruise on his back and what looked like fingernail indentations. One of his teachers at the centre told us it came from a fall he'd had.

We immediately wrote to the childcare operator's headquarters, hoping someone would be able to give us answers. In response, the interim principal reviewed the centre's closed-circuit television footage and identified an incident involving Adam and one of his teachers, leading to the teacher's suspension.

Then we took Adam to the emergency unit at KK Women's and Children's Hospital for a full-body checkup. We were referred to a child development psychiatrist, as well as a speech therapist for his slurred speech.

WHEN ANSWERS CAN'T FIX EVERYTHING

After a formal investigation, the teacher's employment at the school was terminated. It was eventually revealed that his teacher had force-fed him, then carried him and shook him. This explained the bruises with nail indentations on his back. 

As more and more information came to light, many of the behavioural changes we had observed in Adam over the previous months finally began to make sense.

Having answers helped – but it did not erase the emotional weight we carried as parents. We kept asking ourselves the same question: Could we have recognised the signs sooner?

It is a question I think many parents ask themselves whenever their child goes through something difficult.

We kept asking ourselves the same question: Could we have recognised the signs sooner?

As soon as we realised what had been happening, we pulled Adam out of the childcare centre – but leaving was not the end of it. In many ways, it was only the beginning.

For about four months afterwards, Adam continued experiencing night terrors. We eventually threw away all of his school uniforms because even the sight of them made him fearful.

We stopped trying to help him "move on" and instead concentrated on helping him feel safe again.

We tried almost everything we could think of: sensory play, outdoor adventures, music, cooking together, everyday household chores, and family outings. We simply wanted him to rediscover joy in everyday life.

Not everything worked. Some activities lasted only a day before he lost interest. Others made a slight difference.

But we had to keep trying. Healing is not a straight path. Every child is different, and we knew we had to be patient enough to discover what worked for ours.

HEALING THROUGH TAEKWONDO

One afternoon, we went to a mall in eastern Singapore for an appointment with a Chinese physician. While in the mall, we happened to walk past a taekwondo school.

Adam stood for several long minutes, watching the class from outside. He seemed interested, but remained quiet.

In the next couple of weeks, we approached several taekwondo schools near our home in the east.

Every one of them told us they would accept only students aged four and above. Adam, still a few weeks shy of his third birthday, was too young.

We reached out to the first taekwondo school we'd come across, in that mall, and got connected to the head coach. When he heard our request, his response was simple: "If he can follow instructions, I'll be happy to give him a chance."

At his trial lesson, it was clear that Adam immediately felt comfortable with his taekwondo master. We enrolled him that very day, happy to have found an activity to keep Adam engaged and motivated.

Instead, taekwondo became so much more – a meaningful pillar of Adam's healing.

The classes were engaging, but it was his taekwondo master's passion and patience that won over Adam and us.

Every effort was celebrated, even the smallest. Sometimes it was as simple as giving Adam a sticker after class.

His taekwondo master taught him that it wasn't about being the strongest or the best – trying was worth celebrating too.

No matter their age or size, every learner was treated as an individual capable of learning and improving, of getting back up again when they were knocked down.

Week after week, we began seeing new changes in Adam.

He became more willing to try new things. He slowly regained confidence in interacting with adults. He started believing in himself again.

In one of Adam's early sessions, he struggled with a training drill that required him to jump over a hurdle. He simply could not bring himself to do it, hesitating repeatedly and always stopping himself right before the jump.

Today, he clears that same hurdle confidently without anyone's help.

To any other parent, that might seem like a small achievement, maybe slightly more towards cute than consequential.

To us, it represented something much bigger. It meant our beloved boy's light was coming back.

In the lead-up to his yellow-tip belt grading, Adam would replay the many videos we had recorded of poomsae – choreographed sequences of moves – and practise them independently at home.

Watching him take ownership of his own learning, it struck us just how far he had come from the frightened little boy who once cried every morning before school.

KIDS NEED US TO BELIEVE IN THEM

Today, Adam has regained his spark.

He laughs freely, runs to help with laundry and mopping, and looks forward to every taekwondo lesson. More importantly, he has regained the confidence to do things independently.

As he has grown older and is better able to understand us, we have also started teaching him about body safety and recognising inappropriate behaviour, especially around adults.

Understandably, he's still more cautious around unfamiliar adults today. But more often than not, he still feels safe and secure enough to smile, wave and say hello.

People sometimes ask us whether taekwondo healed Adam.

The sport was definitely an important tool that helped him regain his confidence. But we believe that more than the sport itself, what mattered was being surrounded by kind, patient adults who steadfastly believed in him.

Sometimes, all it takes is one adult to look at a child who's struggling with pain or fear, and decide to say: "Let's give it a try."

My husband and I will always be grateful to Adam's taekwondo master for choosing to be that person for our son, instead of seeing him only as his past hurt and trauma.

If there is one thing I hope other parents take away from our story, it is this: healing looks different for every child. There is no single, sure-fix solution. Be patient with the process, celebrate the smallest victories and never underestimate the impact that kindness and encouragement can have on a child's life.

The pain of watching your child go through darkness can be indescribable. But what matters most is that we don't ever lose our belief in them – that they can and will find their light again.

If you have an experience to share or know someone who wishes to contribute to this series, write to voices [at] mediacorp.com.sg (voices[at]mediacorp[dot]com[dot]sg) with your full name, address and phone number.