Trauma-Informed Classrooms: Why They Are Important and How You Can Become a Trauma-Informed Educator, Part 2

Last week we focused on the importance of a trauma-informed education that takes into account the different stress triggers, toxic stress sources, adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) and traumatic events. This week we will focus on how the brain and the nervous system respond to different triggers and on what a trauma-informed educational setting and educator look like. Throughout this blog post, you will find a number of resources that will allow you to continue educating yourself on this important topic.

The science of healthy brain development
The brain is an interrelated organ: chemicals in the brain and our emotions are mutually constitutive. Our state of mind, our receptiveness to learning, our ability to regulate our behaviours, and more are controlled by them. Everytime the brain perceives a situation as threatening or unpredictable, it releases stress hormones. Not all stress is toxic; some stress is positive (like the stress you experience while planning a vacation), some stress is tolerable (like the impact a serious illness might have) and some stress is toxic (like the repeated exposure to adversity with the lack of support from an adult that helps the child to co-regulate and process emotions).

(Image source is here.)

The brains of children that experience toxic stress such as early childhood trauma or ACEs, develop differently with regard to neurophysiology; things that appear normal or even positive for most children, can appear threatening for them. These children can miss or misinterpret important social cues coming from their peers or teachers. They might feel overwhelmed because their brain is constantly on the lookout for cues that a situation may be threatening. This can lead to two different reactions: they can become hyper aroused and aggressive (as they go into the fight or flight state, or they can appear compliant, numb and maybe even dreamy (as they go into the freeze state). This video shows you  how a child experiencing toxic stress unconsciously interprets the social cues around them as scary or threatening.

According to Peter Levine, trauma specialist, children who are experiencing toxic stress and trauma, could show hyperarousal, muscle tension and fatigue, sleep problems, tummy aches and headaches or back pain. They might exhibit ADHD-like symptoms, hyperarousal, ‘restless leg’, agitation, lack of motivation, failure to complete work, fidgeting, darting eyes, ‘head in the clouds’, blank stare, and more. They could be visiting the school nurse more often or be absent more often.

And according to Bessel van der Kolk, another trauma specialist: ‘Despite the well-documented effects of anger, fear, and anxiety on the ability to reason, many programs continue to ignore the need to engage the safety system of the brain before trying to promote new ways of thinking. The last things that should be cut from school schedules are chorus, physical education, recess, and anything else involving movement, play, and joyful engagement. When children are oppositional, defensive, numbed out, or enraged, it’s also important to recognize that such “bad behavior” may repeat action patterns that were established to survive serious threats, even if they are intensely upsetting or off-putting.’

What areas does the trauma-informed education system focus on?
In order to understand how the trauma-informed model works, you have to start from the base (what happens inside the brain) and move up to the cultural and humanistic ripple effects of this approach. At its core, such an approach is filled with empathy and making education more accessible to those students that have difficulties adapting to the current educational system. How can you go about this?

Work towards understanding the different aspects of trauma!
Trauma can have many effects:

  • neurobiological (finding it difficult to respond to stressful, unpredictable situations and new people);
  • physical (being sick more often, being overweight or obese, dealing with mental health problems);
  • social (not being able to build and maintain friendships, for example because of being marginalised due to your ethnic background or social class or to not having access to healthcare or good nutrition);
  • psychological (developing or dealing with stress disorders, depression and more).

Work towards changing the way questions are posed!
Instead of asking: “What’s wrong?”, you can ask: “What happened?”
Many trauma-informed practitioners and experts ask “What has happened to you?” instead of “What is wrong with you?” The first invites someone to tell a story, a life narrative with personal meaning-making nuances, where the latter is much more judging, more accusatory in its character. This last approach will, once again, only add to the already existing trauma. In a classroom setting, asking “What did you do?” has a judgmental overtone; it causes feelings of insecurity, stress and guilt in the students. Asking “Would you like to share with the group, what you two are talking about?”, like in the story I shared last week, implies blaming and shaming. Understanding this mechanism makes it more easily understandable that my student lashed out at me; all humans will try to avoid situations that are threatening and might cause them shame or trouble.

Work towards checking any assumptions, preconceived notions, or stereotypes you yourself might have!
Decolonizing the mind changes lives (), and can help to disrupt ‘the culture of fear and failure’, as Liz Dozier calls it in this video.

Photo by Megan Soule on Unsplash

Work towards using strategies to cultivate more empathy!
Humans are born with the capacity for empathy (to consider what it might be like to walk in someone else’s shoes) and this capacity can be increased by engaging in actions of empathy. A classroom that is built on empathy helps students understand each other and build friendships based on trust. Practicing empathy can also help you, the educator, to have more empathy towards yourself, learn about your stress triggers and come up with strategies to help you self-soothe when you are the one who needs to take a deep breath.

Work towards viewing humanity as the center of any action or strategy you employ in the classroom!
Being trauma-informed means that we can see fear and stress as a shared human experience. From that perspective, trauma (which is essentially fear that one cannot turn off) can be better understood. Many trauma-informed practices focus on how to soothe the nervous system and through this lens, discipline in the classroom can be achieved by helping the students co-regulate with the group, instead of singling them out for … being human, human in their vulnerability or in their experience of pain and disconnection from the self.

Work on building resilience with your students!
Stress is sometimes inevitable and trauma is a possibility in any one of your students’ lives. Resilient people have skills that allow them to deal with common or more rare stressors or to overcome trauma. Sometimes they can even thrive despite the toxic stress or trauma in their lives. You are already fostering some of these resilience-building skills such as problem-solving, planning, seeking help and support from others, and maintaining focus. You could help your students still more by helping them develop a sense of control in their lives, even if it is secondary control (you cannot control what happens in your life, but you can control how you react to it). You could also share with them stories of people who faced trauma or adversity and how they overcame it to foster positivity, teach them age-appropriate mindfulness techniques to teach them self-soothing skills, and encourage journaling or art as a means of lowering stress and taking control of their personal narrative and their story.

Next week, we will look at trauma-informed education from the  perspective of the school setting and the wider community. We have included lots of resources throughout Part 1 and Part 2 which we will collect in next week’s blog (Part 3). Feel free to share your thoughts and ideas on trauma-informed education on our social media accounts and to share our blog posts with your colleagues or anyone else interested!

Trauma-Informed Classrooms: Why They Are Important and How You Can Become a Trauma-Informed Educator, Part 1

Very vividly do I remember the first time I walked in a classroom in a Dutch school and taught my first lesson. I was a substitute teacher since the regular English teacher was on sick leave, and did not know when and whether she would return that year to our school. I had taught as an intern many times before, I had tutored many students, I wasn’t a rookie. But that first time as I walked in that classroom, with a booklet that I had never taught before, with 20 teenagers looking at me and waiting for me to step in and teach them, I was sweating and my heart was racing. So I got up there and started my lesson, trying to calm my nerves, pretending I had everything under control, and wondering whether they could hear my heart beating louder than my voice telling them what they should expect to learn this trimester.

I thought that I was doing relatively well; they were nodding in understanding, and they were skimming through their books. I saw one of my students talking to his peer, looking at me and laughing. “Oh dear… What is it?”, I thought. So I asked in my teacher’s voice: “What are you two talking about? Do you care to share with the group?” And then … hell broke loose! My student expressed his disappointment about the way English was taught this year. In a strong tone of voice, he said the level was sub par and that the lesson was “nothing like last year!” There was more, but I cannot remember all of it now. What I do remember is how much I cried after this lesson, how many colleagues I asked about this child and how many looked at me in disbelief: “But he was such a wonderful kid last year! He is a sweetheart.”

What I didn’t know then was that this student had lost one of his parents last year.  His school, his friends and his favourite teachers (one of whom was his English teacher) were the ones giving him a sense of comfort, belonging, and security in the midst of his grief. After being informed about the loss of the parent, I realised that this boy had at least one ACE. With the loss still being so recent, he may have been experiencing high (or even toxic) levels of stress. Me standing there, instead of the teacher he was so fond of, was another loss on top of it. And then me lecturing him about talking to his peer, without having a secure, attached relationship first, was probably adding to his stress even more.
Events like these are food for thought: in what way can we create a more secure environment for our young people within the educational setting?

The current education system
The current education system is set up on the assumption that students have or can develop skills to acquire and apply knowledge. The education system assumes that they are cognitively intact, safe and calm. And as educators, we tend to focus on the cognitive part of our students’ brain, teaching academic skills, trying to raise our students’ test scores, and making sure that they achieve their goals.

At the same time, there are professionals within the education system who are looking for other ways to inspire students; they try to reduce the number of tests students have to take, and wonder how, as teachers, they can be more connected to their pupils and inspire them in their learning process, whatever background they bring to the table. The reason many of us teachers may have a hard time achieving such attachment relationships is probably that the majority of us were not trained to understand the impact of stress, severe loss and trauma on the way our students learn or behave. The Ohio Department of Education created the following infographic to educate their teachers on what the typical brain development of a child not experiencing trauma looks like and how it changes when the child is experiencing trauma.

But what is trauma exactly? And in what ways can it affect a person? Let’s take a look at several definitions which may be helpful.
Trauma, and the toxic stress often leading up to it, can be described in different ways: ‘Trauma is a wound that injures us emotionally, psychologically, physiologically, and spiritually’, says a document of the Crisis and Trauma Resource Institute.
Another wording by Gabor Maté says: ‘Trauma is a psychic wound that hardens you psychologically that then interferes with your ability to grow and develop. It pains you and now you’re acting out of pain. It induces fear and now you’re acting out of fear. Trauma is not what happens to you, it’s what happens inside you as a result of what happened to you. Trauma is that scarring that makes you less flexible, more rigid, less feeling and more defensive.’
Trauma specialist Bessel van der Kolk chimes in with the previous ones: ‘[T]rauma is specifically an event that overwhelms the central nervous system, altering the way we process and recall memories. Trauma is not the story of something that happened back then. It’s the current imprint of that pain, horror, and fear living inside people.’
And trauma specialist Peter Levine mentions that ‘trauma is not in the event itself; rather, trauma resides in the nervous system.’

Toxic stress and trauma are generally believed to be less common than they actually are and although we all want children to thrive, we often lack a collection of tools that can help them if they go through adverse experiences, or have a lot of stress. In the original ACE study by Felitti and Anda 87% of the participants had 1 adverse childhood experience. Scoring 4 ACEs and more, was associated with a higher risk for behavioral and physical health conditions later in life. An interesting finding is that of the 17,000 participants surveyed, most were white, caucasian middle class, educated and employed. They were not a marginalized, repressed group. They could be the student that comes from a middle class household whose parents have good jobs and a seemingly good life.  According to Margaret Paccione-Dyszlewski, however,  ‘There is hardly a child who crosses the threshold of a school who does not carry with them a reservoir of trauma. Whether this pain is the size of a pencil case, knapsack, or duffel bag, the odds are that some degree of trauma is present and that it hurts.’ In this article, she provides data for the millions of children in the United States who have to deal on a daily basis with abuse, neglect, poverty, domestic violence, street violence, alcohol addicted parents and incarceration of family members.

As adults, we are often also not informed about the effects of toxic stress and trauma on our own way of functioning and responding to others and to things that happen in our social environment. We may be triggered by behaviors our students are showing us and this can lead to us being traumatised over and over again. In addition, our consequently unbalanced or insufficiently compassionate response to students may re-traumatise them – a truly sad vicious circle in its double sense. On both sides, all of this can lead to chronic stress and anxiety, lower compassion satisfaction (the satisfaction and self-efficacy one feels when helping others), burnout, depression and more chronic diseases. What is probably the biggest obstacle for us as teachers in finding a motivational approach in which we are connected to our students with mutual authenticity, compassion, and satisfaction, is that despite all the knowledge in our specific subject, we have not been educated and trained to work from a trauma-informed perspective. What exactly does this consist of? What do we need to know to be sensitive to possible trauma with students? These are questions that will be dealt with in Part 2 of this blog post.

A Full Plate: When ACEs Lead to Problematic Self-Reliance

They sat at the dinner table; his wife had cooked something really nice and was filling the plates. She filled their son’s plate, asked their guest Lucy to hand her plate over and then filled her own. She looked at him and said: ‘You will fill your own?’ ‘Yes’, he responded, got up from the table, walked to the kitchen and filled his plate.
Lucy watched the scene in amazement. She had not been at their private dinner table many times yet. On previous occasions, they had often shared meals in a restaurant, where everyone is being served. Lucy looked at him, their eyes locked: ‘What was that all about?’ He paused: ‘What?’ ‘Well, you insisting on filling your own plate…’ He smiled: ‘I’m perfectly able to fill my own plate; there is no need for someone else to do that.’ She let it sink in and then said: ‘Well, I’m totally convinced… or rather I know you can do that, but why would you want to? Isn’t it nice to be taken care of and just lovingly have your plate filled?’ He mumbled and said there was really no need. The whole afternoon had been wonderful, so to maintain the good atmosphere, the topic was dropped.

It was not until much later that Lucy returned to it and asked him whether he had an idea where that behaviour came from. He told her that over the years he had gotten used to taking care of himself. Lucy, struck by how much she recognised his explanation and aware that such behaviours might reflect more than what meets the eye, suggested there might be painful experiences underneath. He listened and did not fully dismiss the possibility, but he also wasn’t convinced that such old childhood pain could be the cause of this behaviour, nor of several somehow related behaviours, for that matter, that he had developed: smoking, not responding to phone calls or messages, handwashing his clothes while only away for the weekend, shutting down completely when not feeling well and going stray, despite the grief that the parental divorce had caused him all those years ago. He knew that something was not right, but he had a truly hard time allowing the thoughts around it into his conscious awareness.

The story did not end well. He ended up with an autoimmune disease that seriously affected his health: too many red blood cells thickened his blood so much that it could literally not flow properly anymore. He would have times where he felt better (‘Yeah, I’m better again, climbing back up out of the dark dungeons!’, he would say jokingly, although he would never say he went in), but the grey clouds would always dampen his days again, to the point where his desperate looking for love landed him in a divorce of his own, in disappointing relationships and in sniffing coke to deal with both the health problems and the loneliness. Lucy lost contact; she kept at it, but he moved without telling her his new address. Years later, she still sends a message every now and then, but doesn’t know whether his phone number is still the same. Her compassionate inquiry and understanding had not been enough to maintain the friendship. He could not handle her unconditional emotional closeness; shame and guilt over falling short, not responding and letting her down, were too much for him – he disappeared in utter silence.

As a child, in order to not fully collapse under the responsibilities of taking care of a mother whose husband left and had to work two jobs to pay for the cost involved in taking care of him and his older brother, he had had to develop a survival strategy. In those years, he built up an attitude of rather relying on himself than on others, to make sure he would not have another experience of people letting him down. Nevertheless, nothing could fill up the huge hole that the unmet needs left in him. His dad ran off, his mom was busy… was he worthy of their love, of anyone’s love? Twice, he was on the verge of ending his life. One time, Lucy’s loving messages had prevented him from doing so, although the chaos he had created and had to face was almost too much to bear. Sometimes, she was the only one who could pull him out of his numbness, make him feel again, get his tears flowing again.

When we look at this from an ACEs perspective, we can see a scared boy who, as a child, did not have the emotional connection children need to feel secure. He learned to fend for himself and never lost the habit. As trauma expert Gabor Maté explains: the pain of not feeling seen and heard and loved as a child, lacking the secure attachment with caring and emotionally present adults, will likely make us lose our authenticity. Humans, wired for connection as they are, crave meaningful relationships with others. If their unique personality threatens the attachment to those the child depends upon, the child may give up their authenticity in order to maintain the attachment relationship. In losing our authenticity, however, we lose the connection to ourselves and that will almost always result in losing the connection to others. We close our hearts to prevent more pain coming in, but by doing so we also close towards love and compassion. To open up again requires courage and a secure environment. It also requires curiosity on behalf of those in that environment, their willingness to listen to, sit with, and offer holding space for the one in pain. This shows that healing is not just a personal challenge, a lonely move to make; we need attention and kindness from those around us to reverse the illusions we had to build to survive. Trauma, in essence, is a disconnection from the true self, and through love and compassion we can work towards re-establishing that connection.
That is a hopeful thought, one that everyone can contribute to in someone else through connection, compassion, courage, curiosity, confidence and kindness. That way, we can build resilience in ourselves, in one another and in our society as a whole.

Lucy keeps sending good vibes into space; maybe they somehow reach her friend, she says, and they will reconnect one day… or not, and then at least they may benefit him… and her as well.

Book review of ‘Sabre Tooth Tigers & Teddy Bears’

In her latest book, ‘Sabre Tooth Tigers & Teddy Bears: The connected baby guide to attachment’, dr. Suzanne Zeedyk shares the science of connection and universal importance of early life in a remarkably sober and humane voice. First published in Great Britain in 2013 and seeing the second edition in 2020, the 80 pages represent a concise and compassionate tour de force that literally everyone ought to get their hands on.

After working for nearly 20 years as a developmental psychologist at the University of Dundee in UK, dr. Zeedyk stepped away from her academic path in 2011 to share the importance of attachment, relationships, and love from the first moments of life with the larger public. Ever since, she has been collaborating with national and international partners towards raising awareness and engagement around the science of connection and has co-organized one of the biggest series of public events on the topic, in Scotland.

In familiar and playful language, the book describes human attachment – ‘the process through which relationships shape our biology’ by giving an overview of the evolutionary, neurobiological, and psychosocial perspectives at work that make attachment an absolutely vital component of every life. Through scientific evidence, Suzanne showcases that our interactions and relationships are literally crafting the anatomy and physiology of our brains from conception until death, and especially so in the first years of life. This crafting, on a platform of genetic background and environmental factors, will dictate how we develop and function using a fine-tuned balance of hormones and neurotransmitters (those little chemicals that keep our bodies and brains in balance). When the connection is not developed or lost and attachment becomes disturbed, when a child learns that the world is not a safe and warm space where emotional states are understood and responded to, this balance and the healthy development that comes with it are in danger.

The metaphor of a ‘sabre tooth tiger’ is brought forward to make the ‘childish’ and ‘unreasonable’ fear perceived by the baby when left alone more vivid and relatable to us, adults. When we understand that, way back in time, being abandoned meant being vulnerable and under threat of survival for a child, we begin to understand the meaning behind the crying for help and the importance of giving our baby a hug when we return after having left. At the same time, the notion of a ‘teddy bear’ is used to represent the concept of resilience, a feeling of internal comfort and safety that every child needs and deserves. When we understand that resilience only becomes embodied with enough repetition of happy, non-judgmental experiences in relationships with trusted others, we begin to understand that being there not only physically, but also emotionally, matters more than we could ever imagine.

Through the concept of Adverse Childhood Experiences, or ACEs, professionals and scientists have begun to understand the unprecedented importance of early life experiences on later life. Communities around the world have started to share and apply the science around ACEs. When the lack or loss of connection mentioned earlier is left unattended for long enough, it can turn into trauma. When trauma is left unattended for long enough, it can turn into a lifelong series of health problems and risky behavioral patterns. Besides sharing this evidence, Suzanne witfully shares real stories of real people whose lives have been changed by these insights. These stories, from the personal change of parents and survivors, to the professional change of teachers, nursery owners, lawyers, and policemen, speak louder than any scientific article.

If there is one tip to take away from this book and use at all times, it would be that the laughter flowing from positive and secure relationships has the power to build resilience, or as Suzanne puts it: ‘Sabre Tooth tigers are scared off by the sound of giggling’!

Unspoken thoughts

We bumped in to one another on the street near our home and had a chat. He was doing his usual round and asked me how I was. It was warm and sunny; I wore my favourite scarce cotton dress, busy getting the outdoors and indoors ready for the summer holiday. As usual, he was in the mood for a relaxed conversation in which all kinds of topics can come to the surface. He never seems to be in a hurry and before you know it, half an hour has passed. We came to talk about a relative of ours that had died and he told about the child of a friend of a friend, who had committed suicide by jumping in front of a train. “It was the second try! The first time, he did not succeed, but now he did. So sad, for everyone involved… Why, I want to know, why, do we not help these people?!” He looked at me, clearly expecting me to respond to his desperation and indignation and more or less demanding a solution. He knows me just about well enough to know that this is a topic I have both expertise on and a heartfelt interest in. I asked him what his thoughts were, what kind of help, in his opinion, a person in such a state of despair would need, where that help should start and in what life stage the troubles were rooted. He shrugged, held his head tilted and pondered: “Yeah… well… hard to say… Do you have ideas about it?” I said I did.

I said that oftentimes, suicide is not a sudden event, even if it seems so to outsiders, but the tragic finale of a long and difficult life trajectory. Regularly, something went wrong early on, as with a house lacking a solid foundation, even if standing for decades and looking like a secure shelter from the storm.
I spoke about inner working models, the image that gets built up in the early years by the parental reflection of love and sensitivity for the child’s needs. A positive model sustains and supports us when we have challenges to deal with. It will cheer us on and we experience that cheer as love and trust in our abilities. It gives us courage and wings to fly. A negative model shakes and subverts us even when we only have to deal with the daily duties. It will talk us down and we experience that talk as a blow to our true selves, to the point where we lose connection with that self altogether and wither away on the inside. It feeds our anxiety and urge to lie low, not soar high.
I explained that humans are wired for connection and if they feel it, they can move mountains. If they don’t, life may seem to consist of mountains only, ones that cannot be conquered, regardless of their size. You can build stamina to keep trying, but sooner or later you’ll feel exhausted.
I asked how, if the parental reflection appears to say: “You are not lovable, you are not worth our effort, you’re up to no good, you’re tiring, you disturb the life I had before you came”… how, then, can a child build up an image of itself as lovable, worthy, good, delightful and enriching for close others? It is easy to say that you simply have to love yourself, but if it feels like no one else does, how can you keep that image alive and kicking?
And I added that if that is what a child experiences, it is often a handed-down inheritance from a previous generation that was struggling itself and did not manage to heal its wounds.

He had been listening closely and looked me in the eye: “Yes. I see what you’re getting at. I know a story like that, of a boy who was taken in by his grandparents, because the parents wanted to keep leading a wild life, as if there were no kid around. The grandparents did really well, but the boy had to see a psychiatrist later on anyway, because so much had been missing at the start.” I nodded. “You see…? That’s how it goes. It’s really sad, and changing it is really hard, because we all tend to say we are okay, even when we are not. Suppose I asked you how you were and you would not be well… what would you say?” He smiled; he clearly got a hunch of what I was heading towards. He shrugged again and smiled. “Well, you know… I can’t simply say I’m not okay, can I? I can’t bother you with that, can I?” I smiled back: “There you go… if I don’t know you are not well, how can I come up with ideas for things that might help you feel better again? How can I be there for you in whichever way, with proper holding space, if you don’t tell me you need that closeness, so that you won’t jump in front of a train?” His eyes lit up and widened: “That thought has never crossed my mind, fortunately!” “Aah, that’s good, but do you see it is only a gradual difference, not a fundamental one?” He slowly shook his head from left to right and his friendly smile returned: “I guess you have to continue with what you are doing, or it won’t get done in time, because I feel that this is going to be a very long conversation, if we get to the bottom of it!” I laughed out loud and agreed with him: “Yes, there is a lot to say about this, indeed! Your question about why we don’t help people who are so lonely that suicide appears to be the only escape , is not an easy one to answer, but we can begin by listening carefully when people say they are not so okay. That is a start to that answer you are looking for and an answer that could change our whole society!”

He walked away a few metres in the direction that would bring him back to his own place. He is such a friendly, well-meaning man and I know he has his own burden to take care of these days. He raised his hand to greet me and wish me a beautiful holiday and I thanked him. I realised that this is what Felitti and Anda meant when they were talking about the commonality of ACEs. I realised as well that shame and fear of vulnerability are ubiquitous, too. Why is it so hard for us to speak our minds, to open our souls, to express how we feel, to admit we are scared? If it all comes down to shame, then each of us can do something about this societal issue: don’t shame other people. Say what you like. Say whom you love. Acknowledge good being done to you. Be kind, be compassionate, be gentle. Try to imagine how challenging something may be for someone else, how their heart pounds while they try to do what is expected or needed, how dearly they miss a dearly loved one, how they wish they were not ashamed of past practices. Try to think of how they maybe just dried their tears and had to take a very deep breath before leaving home and facing the world. If we all do that, we will all be treated with much more grace, patience and humanity. As Scottish ACE Aware-colleague James Docherty says in the article below: “I have never seen a long term positive outcome from shame.” Well said, James; I hope we can meet shortly and you have time for a talk together, as it is the human story, the personal narrative, that can help us understand how we are shaped by what goes on between our entrance into this world and the day we draw and exhale our last breath. May there be a lot of understanding, connection and compassion in between, to create awesome childhood and adult experiences!

(More on the James’ important remark about how some brains never had a chance in a next blog.)