We have to remember that children’s worlds are very different than adults’ worlds and vary according to phases of development. Thus, we need to think not so much in terms of what we say, but how we listen. What we’ve learned about trauma is how significant it is when parents, caregivers, and educators provide children an opportunity to be heard. Educators know this, and parents and caregivers who are attuned to children know this. When we provide an opportunity for children to find words, we’re doing an enormous amount to support their coping mechanisms.

For starters, choose your questions carefully, without making assumptions about what they know, what they’ve heard, or how they’re feeling. Instead of asking, “Are you afraid?” try questions such as, “What are your friends talking about?” That will give you a better insight into what they’re hearing and how consumed they are with the traumatic event.

Keep in mind that a child may express their fear through a seemingly unrelated concern—say, a fear of car accidents or illness. And recognize that the signs of distress are typically not presented in words.

Children may complain of physical discomfort, such as stomach aches and headaches. They might become more defiant about parental and teacher expectations. Or they will withdraw from activities that were typically sources of pleasure.

Children may also show signs of increased irritability, or fearfulness, as though the danger they confronted hasn’t stopped and is lurking around every corner. They also may have a heightened sensitivity to noises, to sounds. We often see an increased startle response, where children might be quite jumpy. They may become preoccupied. The only way you could surmise this is because they can’t concentrate on tasks at hand. We see this particularly in classroom settings. There are a range of ways in which post-traumatic symptoms or reactions demonstrate that a child is really struggling and has not yet returned to their optimal capacity to regulate their feelings. If they can’t regulate their feelings, it’s very hard to regulate thinking. So there’s a vicious cycle. The more that adults can recognize the signs and symptoms of post-traumatic distress, the more effective they can be in supporting a child’s recovery.

One of the biggest supports that adults can offer is routine and predictability. Because of the disruption and disorder that children experience when they’re traumatized, the external order becomes especially significant and important in helping them to recover. This may be counterintuitive for adults, who sometimes feel that allowing children to have a new bedtime or eat whatever they want will help them feel better. But maintaining the routines of daily life and maintaining predictability are what’s indicated when children’s internal worlds are so massively disrupted.

After a traumatic event, make sure you don’t have the news on too much around your children. When something overwhelming and frightening happens, for many adults, it’s hard to step away from media. We may have the television on nonstop. It’s understandable. We’re trying to master the unbelievable by getting more information. But it’s rarely useful in helping us cope. When parents have the television on all the time, their children are going to be exposed more.
Also, if parents are very upset and not aware of how upset they are, they may display their emotions, including fear, in front of their children. That can be a tremendous burden for the child.

Storytelling and play allow children to be the writer of the script, which serves a critical role in their development. We know the power of play in advancing children’s development because they get to experience and pretend. They get to rehearse and plan, and they get to be in charge. They get to write the stories. The best authors and the best works of literature are ones that tell a story with which children can identify. The characters and themes in the stories become proxies for the themes children are working out in their own lives. It’s the details that allow them to get immersed in the creation of the author. The child can say, “That’s just like me,” or “I know what that feels like.” Seeing one’s feelings expressed provides a powerful way to open communication. Literature, art, and dramatic play help children find vehicles for expression and the sense that, “I’m not alone. There are others just like me.”

Students with resilience have a strong sense of who they are. They’re able to problem-solve. They’re curious and motivated. They engage in social activities with others. They’re aware of emotional reactions and the behaviors of those around them. With these capacities, research shows, kids can respond to different situations and think of ways to tackle a problem or resolve it. A child who is resilient doesn’t only survive a setback or a traumatic event. That child thrives. In the framework that Dr. Linda C. Mayes and I share in The Educator’s Guide to Child & Family Resilience, we cite five key capacities that tend to promote resilience: developing supportive relationships, forming positive self-identities, supporting curiosity and motivation, engaging in flexible thinking, and demonstrating altruism.

Resilience is not an innate ability. It’s not something you’re born with. It’s something that is learned. We have the capacity to help children learn these skills so that they can meet challenging situations and thrive. We can foster these capacities by making sure we’re developing strong relationships with them and help them see themselves in a positive way.

We want to promote curiosity and their desire to learn. We also want to help them engage in flexible thinking, to realize that there are multiple ways of solving a problem. Finally, we want to develop in them a sense of altruism, which is the belief that I am better when we all are better. That’s the kind of world all of us want to live in, knowing that others have our best interests at heart, as we do for them.

If we want a child to understand what it means to be empathetic, we must show them what that looks like in action. We can show them through our behavior and through thematic texts and activities.

In a classroom, there should be several ways for a child to engage with whatever subject they’re studying. When teachers provide opportunities for children to ask questions, consider a range of perspectives, and seek information through a variety of ways, that engages children to think flexibly. But if there is only one right answer, kids are always going to try to provide the answer the teacher wants. You want to find different options for children to demonstrate that they’ve learned the content, emphasizing their individual strengths. For example, a child who excels at writing may wish to write a report. Another may want to create a drawing or a graphic. Some may want to put on a show or a musical. 

My introduction to trauma and its impact on children came early in my teaching career, in the early 1990s. At the time, it was seen from a lens of deficit, meaning that we should pity a child rather than help them overcome difficult circumstances. It’s actually a reason to invest more in the child to help them thrive. We need to make sure that everything we do is equitable and intentional, and that we’re giving every kid a fair chance at thriving in our classrooms.

A teacher needs to know who a child is and affirm that. We need to make sure kids see themselves reflected in the books we choose in our classroom and the activities we do. We also want to show our students that there are other folks in the world who may be different, but those ways of being are just as valid. We need to give students active time in class to do projects, such as an identity web, showing the people in their network of support and how that might look different than someone else’s.

We can also talk back to the negative messages that students hear all the time—from social media and folks who may not understand them. We need to give kids a lot of opportunities to see that their way of being is one way and it matters, but that there are multiple ways of being in the world.

When I’m with classroom teachers, I have them do a library audit. I ask, “Do you see students reflected in your books who may have disabilities? Do you see students who may have come from different economic conditions or who have cultural as well as linguistic differences?” If they don’t, that’s an area where they need to develop more resources. Another activity is developing the understanding that a child’s language is a part of who they are. So, when you’re putting up charts in your classroom, you want to provide the different languages that are reflected among your students, in addition to English. Kids should also have an opportunity to invite folks in their immediate circle of influence into the classroom to share vital cultural lessons as a part of the curriculum.

All the time, even in my own home. During the pandemic, my youngest child was in high school. With no outside activities, she was inundated with messages on social media telling her that she was inadequate because of her complexion, because of her hair, that she was not beautiful. I remember her saying to me that she wanted to change her hair. I wondered, “Where did that come from?” She told me about the people getting all the likes and attention. I had to say to her, “I want you to understand that you’re perfect. There is no one else in the world who looks exactly like you. You don’t have to change anything about you so that you can start looking like someone else.” I put stickers on her mirror with positive messages, such as, “Don’t let someone else define what beauty is.” Kids get messages about who’s smart, who’s welcome, who’s included. Those of us who are in a child’s network have to say to them: “Those messages are not the ones that tell you you’re worthy. You’re smart. You’re OK as you are.”

In my dissertation research, I discovered the importance of establishing open lines of communication. We can’t always expect families to show up at school to demonstrate that they care. We have to hold events in the community and find places nearby for families to meet outside of school. We have to correspond with them in a variety of ways. In addition to newsletters and text messages, that may mean sending flyers to places of worship or putting notices in grocery stores and barbershops. If we do hold an event at school, and families don’t have the resources to get to us, we need to connect with other stakeholders in the community to help.

For example, when I was an elementary school principal, most of my student population was Title 1 (from a low-income household). I would host literacy nights and math nights in the community. I contacted the church next door to the school and asked them if we could borrow their van to pick up folks in the neighborhood and bring them to the church. We had to understand that involvement was going to look different for each family. Some families could come to the school and volunteer in class. Other times, involvement would mean trusting the teacher to suggest the help that was needed. One of our projects involved a local barbershop that would allow teachers to come and read aloud on Saturdays. We had a bookshelf there to show families that we’re in this together.