Trauma. Over the past decade, I have heard this word more and more. “Trauma-informed” is now a practice, a care, a certification, and a fantastic catch-phrase to make us sound like we actually know what we are doing with our children and students. We think that being “trauma-informed” automatically qualifies us to work or engage appropriately with the traumatized. At my concurrent disorders unit, therapists or yoga teachers must have taken trauma-informed training, but does this actually make someone suited to create safe and nurturing environments for others? I could take trauma-informed courses through the ying-yang yet still be a vile and judgemental human being. I actually don’t like the term “trauma-informed” because it systemizes--with frameworks, strategies, and the label—what is fundamentally human.
Being “trauma-informed" is simply the practice of engaging in healthy, functional, reciprocated relationships. By this I mean that our interactions are ones of support, understanding, and care. We don’t judge, we don’t yell, we listen, and we respond with as much compassion as we can. When I have students wildly dysregulated in class (in anger or in tears), I can’t shy away. Rather, I ask gentle questions. In particular, “Do you want to chat right now? Do you want me to leave you alone? Or do you want me to just sit with you and be quiet?” I get various responses, but the point is I am with them in that moment and don’t let my fear of their unknown stop me from taking the risk to engage.
I don't think that trauma is a word we should take lightly. Trauma does a huge number on its victims. We know that:
I wish I knew in my earlier teaching years what I know now. I would have had so much more empathy and asked better questions. I would have paused further before I jumped to conclusions and passed judgements.
Trauma is also not a word that we should use lightly. I am cautious of a flippant comment of, “I am so traumatized by… (a not-actually traumatizing event like doing my report cards)” when there are people with deeply-inflicted and early childhood trauma. I have been told that I have had trauma given my childhood bullying. However, I feel that calling those events “traumatic” does a disservice to those who endure deeply-inflicted, long-lasting, early-years trauma. (Admittedly, this is a very debatable concept.)
What I have learned about trauma is it steals from who we really are. Trauma, particularly that which is repetitive, extreme, and from early childhood, is an albatross on my students’ shoulders. They walk burdened. They misread situations and have explosive responses, because trauma has “damaged” their neural pathways. They quit at the slightest moment of stress.
But knowing this allows me to respond gentler when I am called expletives during their dysregulated responses. Trauma removes the true self; therefore, in my work with the traumatized, I offer supportive, understanding, and caring encounters that provide moments where maybe my students can find glimpses of who they truly are.
References
Being “trauma-informed" is simply the practice of engaging in healthy, functional, reciprocated relationships. By this I mean that our interactions are ones of support, understanding, and care. We don’t judge, we don’t yell, we listen, and we respond with as much compassion as we can. When I have students wildly dysregulated in class (in anger or in tears), I can’t shy away. Rather, I ask gentle questions. In particular, “Do you want to chat right now? Do you want me to leave you alone? Or do you want me to just sit with you and be quiet?” I get various responses, but the point is I am with them in that moment and don’t let my fear of their unknown stop me from taking the risk to engage.
I don't think that trauma is a word we should take lightly. Trauma does a huge number on its victims. We know that:
- The earlier the trauma was inflicted, the worse the long-term damage (Perry & Szalavitz, 2017).
- The higher one’s childhood trauma score (between to birth to 18 yrs), the greater the impact on harmful adult outcomes (such as higher substance use disorders, cardiac and lung disease, homelessness, mental health disorders) (Felitti et al., 1998).
- Trauma creates physiological changes in the brain that hinder healthy development, responses, emotional regulation, and academic success (Maté, 2022; Siegel, 2014).
I wish I knew in my earlier teaching years what I know now. I would have had so much more empathy and asked better questions. I would have paused further before I jumped to conclusions and passed judgements.
Trauma is also not a word that we should use lightly. I am cautious of a flippant comment of, “I am so traumatized by… (a not-actually traumatizing event like doing my report cards)” when there are people with deeply-inflicted and early childhood trauma. I have been told that I have had trauma given my childhood bullying. However, I feel that calling those events “traumatic” does a disservice to those who endure deeply-inflicted, long-lasting, early-years trauma. (Admittedly, this is a very debatable concept.)
What I have learned about trauma is it steals from who we really are. Trauma, particularly that which is repetitive, extreme, and from early childhood, is an albatross on my students’ shoulders. They walk burdened. They misread situations and have explosive responses, because trauma has “damaged” their neural pathways. They quit at the slightest moment of stress.
But knowing this allows me to respond gentler when I am called expletives during their dysregulated responses. Trauma removes the true self; therefore, in my work with the traumatized, I offer supportive, understanding, and caring encounters that provide moments where maybe my students can find glimpses of who they truly are.
References
- Felitti, V. J., Anda, R. F., Nordenberg, D., Williamson, D. F., Spitz, A. M., Edwards, V., Koss, M. P., Marks, J. S. (1998). Relationship of childhood abuse and household dysfunction to many of the leading causes of death in adults. The adverse childhood experiences (ACE) study. American Journal of Preventive Medicine, 14(4), 245–258.
- Maté, G. (2022). The myth of normal: Trauma, illness and healing in a toxic culture. Knopf Canada.
- Perry, B. D., & Szalavitz, M. (2017). The boy who was raised as a dog: And other stories from a child psychiatrist's notebook—What traumatized children can teach us about loss, love, and healing (2nd ed.). Basic Books.
- Siegel, D. (2014). Brainstorm: The Power and Purpose of the Teenage Brain. Penguin Group.