Trauma-Informed Teaching From a Trauma Experienced Student

Heidi Allum
Identity, Education and Power
10 min readSep 6, 2019

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quote poster — “Love your students, and they will conquer the world.”

There are a lot of these floating around on Twitter. Quote posters like this one that reads, “Love your students, and they will conquer the World.”

I’m going to assume they come from well-intentioned places. Teachers and educators wanting to be the best for their students. To grow and understand their students. To guide and give them exactly what they need at that moment to help them move forward. That’s why we’re in it, as teachers, aren’t we? To create relationships — not just within the teacher/student pathway, but helping students meet students. Helping students see and understand their community — local and global. We want students to care; find passion; do their best. We want them to learn, whatever learning happens to be that day, week — that moment. We want them to engage.

We listen to them. Troubleshoot. Fail and try again.

I guess that is love — in an educational setting.

So, hence, these general statements gain popularity. Of course, we want to ‘love’ our students — and every one of us will have a different definition of what that means.

The waters suddenly get murky, however, when the discussion changes to students who have and/or are experiencing trauma.

Well, more hyperbole than murkiness.

quote poster 1: “Students who are loved at home come to school to learn, and students who aren’t, come to school to be loved.” quote poster 2: “Be the person you needed when you were younger.”

Proclamations on quote posters that say “Be the person you needed when you were younger,” or, the one that really makes me wonder and pause, “Students who are loved at home come to school to learn, and students who aren’t, come to school to be loved”. Now, I understand that they are pulled out of context — and I would love to hear the story behind all of these quote posters, however, without context, these can be misinterpreted when working with students who are experiencing trauma.

As much as I wish love was the one answer, I’m afraid it’s not that simple.

You see, I was one of those students. Trauma of varying degrees was a constant through my K to post-secondary education — and into my first years of teaching. The details of my trauma are many and unnecessary at this point, and I’m not here to receive any “Wow. Thanks for sharing,” comments. That misses the point entirely of what I want to say.

However, my trauma was like crashing waves, as the cliche goes, and ebbed and flowed. There were parts, specifically from the ages of 10–14, where large chunks of my memory are black. So much so, in fact, that as a young adult, when I was constantly trying to get my mother to talk to me about everything, to fill in gaps, which, she dodged, parried, and danced around until she died, she looked at me, giggling, and said, “You were so mad at your father for everything. Remember when you refused to talk to him for 2 years?”

No. No, I don’t.

The above trauma is what your current students could be experiencing. They may have giant black memory gaps to deal with it all, as I did.

To give you a general picture of what I was dealing with:

  • Poverty
  • Parental Alcoholism
  • Neglect
  • Parental Mental Illness
  • Abuse

And, as a student, I can tell you what I didn’t want was a hug and “you’re so loved” from my teacher. I wanted to be seen and understood as a living, thoughtful entity who was NOT the list above. My mental driving force through these experiences was this: “I will do anything not to be this, or like them.”

I said it with mantra-like calmness in my head when things were hardest.

Understanding What Point of Trauma Your Students Are In

Let me say one thing: If at any age, including now, you had stuck me in a restorative circle to discuss trauma, I would not have talked. I would have lied my way through (“things are fine”) or diminished my experiences (“Yeah, my mom is drinking a lot, but that’s pretty typical. No biggie.” “Yeah, I’m not hungry. It’s fine. We’ll get food soon,”).

I didn’t want anyone’s pity or sad emoji eye face.

When the trauma was hardest, I didn’t have too much understanding of how bad it was. I lived in a state of not knowing, and in fear, now that I look back, but it was normalized. I only knew I didn’t invite friends over. And I just did my work.

During the most difficult times, if an adult had sat me down to talk to me about what was going on at any length or depth, I would have collapsed in grief. If a teacher was being visibly ‘extra-loving’ or concerned it would have scared me.

For me, coming to school meant I could do something else with my mind. I read vivaciously. I loved writing. And what I loved most was when I received actual, well thought out feedback on what I was doing with my work. That fed my fire. If I could do it, I could get out of the cycle of poverty, and be something.

If you had tried to talk to me in high school, I might have been more receptive. The point being, before teachers act, it’s probably best to understand where a child is in their point of trauma, as best as they can. Teachers should make a plan that includes empathy, listening, and not looking at the student as a victim. Holistically, what is this person standing in front of you about? Teachers should understand that the emotions of that student will change and alter constantly as the trauma unfolds, and teacher responses should, too.

“…Of the primary insecure patterns, the most problematic for children’s adaptation is the disorganized attachment. In younger children, the disorganized attachment patterns consist of erratic behavior in relation to caregivers (i.e., alternately clingy, dismissive, and aggressive). In older children, adolescents, and adults, disorganized attachment manifests itself in survival-based behaviors that are rigid, extreme, and dissociative. Disorganized attachment behaviors revolve either on themes of helplessness (e.g., abandonment, betrayal, failure, dejection) or coercive control (e.g., blame, rejection, intrusiveness, hostility),”¹

So, sure — continue to love your student, but how you show that ‘love’ is going to change dependent on what you are observing. And this is hard — to be able to understand what trauma is happening, and what state of trauma the child is in.

Observe with a Holistic View

It was the middle of winter. I dragged myself, to school, through an empty park field, warmly dressed luckily. Even though I was 10 or 11, the snow was deep, and each crunch meant the snow was avalanching back into my boot. I had to lift my leg and stomp it into another almost knee-deep drift. Each step was agonizing; the school building constantly hovering in the distance.

Maybe it seemed difficult because I hadn’t eaten yet.

Maybe it seemed difficult because I had waited up for my mother to return home. It was 2 am when she finally arrived, and I had cleaned up her vomit from down the hall and put her to bed. No one had woken me up that morning.

When I got into class, I wanted all of that to go away. I thought I was carrying a green and pink neon sign screaming that I was exhausted, hungry, hurt, and confused. But no one said anything. No one knew.

And you know what? I was ok with that. School meant my only responsibility was being a student. And I embraced that.

Sure, had my teacher known (and maybe he did, I have no idea), and slid me a granola bar, or let me keep independent writing 5 minutes longer, I would have appreciated it. But that’s it — a small give and take. Some small moment to bring humanness to me.

As a teacher, this translates into watching. Listening. Thinking about your students. As a student, I was good at hiding everything (or maybe I wasn’t and the educators in my life weren’t sure what to do). Without sounding like the platitudes I am trying to get away from, each student is going to feel, understand, and internalize their trauma in their own way, at their own pace, and being open and flexible has to be on your conscious mind always as a teacher. Trauma, and one’s response to that trauma will change hourly if not daily (at least it did for me).

No One Answer — Not a Pedagogy

As Alex Shevrin Venet brilliantly says in her blog, Trauma-informed as a buzzword: where do we go from here?:

Trauma-informed education isn’t a set of strategies. Addressing the impacts of trauma on children is ultimately an exercise in empathy, patience, and flexibility. Although strategies are a good entry point to the work, we must constantly turn our focus to developing the capacity for the mess and challenge that is sustaining relationships with kids, no matter what.”

There is no one answer.

However, there is hope.

I can tell you this: Students who are dealing with trauma do not want to be defined by their trauma. They want to see that there’s more to who they are, and what matters to them. I strongly believe this is why there is so much emotional avoidance when dealing with trauma — truly exploring the impact of that trauma for that individual means letting the tsunami of emotions they’ve worked so hard to forget crash over them; which is terrifying. The individual experiencing the trauma needs to find out who they are within, and apart, from that trauma. They need to feel empowered to notice they are more than their trauma.

“Healing centered engagement offers an important departure from solely viewing young people through the lens of harm and focuses on asset driven strategies that highlight possibilities for well-being. An asset driven strategy acknowledges that young people are much more than the worst thing that happened to them, and builds upon their experiences, knowledge, skills and curiosity as positive traits to be enhanced.”²

Ownership of Trauma

Quietly, she worked on her art at her desk. She had been in Canada for about 2 years now and was one of my students. Her immense strength seeped through her being. She was not afraid to say what she felt. She owned her emotions and her actions.

She was intently listening to a conversation happening with her peers, though they did not know she was listening.

“I’m so tired,”

“Why? We didn’t play video games that late,”

“No, it’s my apartment walls. They are so thin! The neighbours always fight. Sometimes I move to the living room to sleep and it’s so uncomfortable,”

A small snicker of laughter came from behind the two conversing students. They turned to her as she shook her head.

“You think that’s bad? Try walking for 2 hours to get fresh water.”

She didn’t say this with maliciousness. She said it with ownership. She simply stated her experiences of trauma. Her own experiences of moving to a new country and learning a new language withstanding, the oppression and poverty she experienced also carried with her. These students now realized that her trauma experiences were worse than theirs; more layered and complex. This is a form of trauma I and these students had little to no experience with and one we as humans need to understand. So many students experience the trauma of racism, sexism, and levels of oppression that impact their experiences constantly.

But she taught me that day. This young girl owned it. It was part of her. She was moving forward with her traumas; slowly understanding them as experiences, and finding herself because those experiences did not define her. I remember her determination and hard work in all of her school tasks. Asking questions, and seeking out her passions. This student of mine had experienced completely different trauma than me, and she was teaching me to own my trauma.

She had found herself with the trauma and oppression. Not despite, or because of.

Again, these are my experiences and another person who has experienced trauma might feel different. What I am trying to say is anticipating and working with students who have experienced trauma is complex, and, unfortunately, ‘love’ might not be what is needed. What might be needed is giving the student opportunities to push and pull themselves, and own their trauma. To help them see who they are — alongside, and without, their trauma experiences. It’s still having asset driven high expectations, and giving thoughtful opportunities to develop who they are. That is what we are here for as educators.

This is why it can be easy as a teacher to state, retweet, and post positive and love affirming platitudes. They do come from good intentions. However, they can be dangerous in victimizing and belittling the strength of each student, and their personal experiences with trauma.

  1. Complex Trauma in Children and Adolescents. Alexandra Cook, PhD; Joseph Spinazzola, PhD; Julian Ford, PhD; Cheryl Lanktree, PhD; Margaret Blaustein, PhD; Marylene Cloitre, PhD; Ruth DeRosa, PhD; Rebecca Hubbard, LMFT; Richard Kagan, PhD; Joan Liautaud, PsyD; Karen Mallah, PhD; Erna Olafson, PhD, PsyD; Bessel van der Kolk, MD Psychiatric Annals. 2005;35(5):390–398. https://doi.org/10.3928/00485713-20050501-05
  2. The Future of Healing: Shifting From Trauma Informed Care to Healing Centered Engagement. Shawn Ginwright Ph.D. May 31, 2018. https://medium.com/@ginwright/the-future-of-healing-shifting-from-trauma-informed-care-to-healing-centered-engagement-634f557ce69c

Quote Poster Sources:

  1. First Quote Poster, 7 Creative Ways to Reach Middle School Students, Torino, Stacy. “https://www.weareteachers.com/reach-middle-school-students/
  2. Second Quote Poster (left hand side). Originally a tweet https://twitter.com/nicholasferroni/status/434883769678327809, but has since been poster quoted many times. This particular image from https://unconditionallearning.org/
  3. Third Quote Poster (right hand side). https://www.simpledesignstransfers.com/products/be-the-person-you-needed-when-you-were-younger-teacher-sublimation-heat-transfer-sheet

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Heidi Allum
Identity, Education and Power

Educator in Canada. Working through trauma by writing about trauma. Play with your math. Figuring out this life and teaching thing. She/her.