Supporting our Traumatized Students

I spent part of my Friday with the team of counselors from my school district. We've been watching a video series by Dr. Bruce Perry, which explores the brain science and impact of trauma on children, and offers strategies and approaches to support these learners.

I walked away from the conversation with the same sense I always get when immersed in conversation about a particular population of students.  Learners who are impacted by trauma definitely need us to be sensitive to their individual needs, and to be thoughtful in our approaches for providing them support - but these approaches aren't dramatically different from interventions that other students need.  Dr. Parry isn't advocating for something really out-there or complicated, beyond the support we provide for other kids in our classrooms.  This isn't to say that intensive, clinical support is needed by many children who've experienced trauma.  What I am saying is that the approaches in a classroom setting are the same as approaches which support many of our other kids. It's just that our learners who've been impacted by traumatic experiences will need them more.

Dr. Perry shared some bits of background information that have anchored my thinking.

1.   Our brains are designed to deal with survival first.  

Dr. Perry shares this diagram of brain function.  We work from the brain-stem up.  People who've experienced significant trauma, literally do not develop the neural networks in the other areas of the brain which will help them to reason, problem solve, develop healthy attachments, etc.  Our work with these learners necessarily has to focus on creating safety and acceptance, and recognize that it's not that they won't interact and problem solve the way we would like them to, they really can't.

2.   Our responses are shaped by the templates of earlier experiences in our brains.  

Every bit of learning we do is processed in the context of the learning that came before it.  We expect the stove top to heat up when we turn the dial because we've seen it happen before.  We know we will feel cold without a coat in the winter because we've shivered every time we popped outside poorly dressed in years gone by.  And, if in the past, quiet redirection has immediately escalated to yelling or physical injury at because we didn't quite get off the slide fast enough or asked an innocent question at bed time, we expect adults at school who quietly redirect us or use a stern tone of voice will hurt us too.

It's the same for touch.  If being slapped or shoved has been the norm for someone at home or in the community, their brains will tell them that's what's coming in other environments too.  They may not be shrugging us off because they're trying to get away from us or avoid work, or shoving a peer because they're trying to pick a fight.  For traumatized students, it's very possible these reactions are an autonomous, self-protective response that occurs before they've even processed what's happened.

Not on purpose...but because the template in their brain-stem causes them to react long before other areas of their brain can get involved.  We don't have to wait to process that the stove will burn us.  We react instantaneously to pull our hands away because we just know.

By age 6, we'll have 95% of our adult brain mass and initial neural networks.  That's a lot of patterning that needs changing if there has been significant early trauma, even if the trauma has been over for some time.  What looks innocent or inconsequential to us may elicit strong reactions in our students, because our students' reactions aren't only based on their interactions with us.  They're based on the templates created by the life experiences that have come before.


3.  Trauma responses can look like hyper-arousal, or can be dis-associative.

While harder to deal with in the moment, it's easier for us to "notice" a child who is angry or reactive all the time.  It's more difficult to recognize that the learner who is sitting in his or her seat passively may also be triggered by a traumatic response.  "Checking out" is a coping strategy that helps to numb the feelings of fear and stress.  Additionally, many children who've experienced trauma aren't checked-out at all - they're actually totally checked in- but their focus is not on what we expect.  While teachers and other learners are thinking about the content of a lesson or discussion, a traumatized learner might be intensely focused on the sounds in the hallway, or the movement in a cloakroom, or have "spidey senses" tingling because someone is moving around behind them.  It's not that they're not paying attention.  It's that experience has taught them that it's more important for their radars to be "tuned in" to potential dangers in their environment than it is to a discussion about chapter 4 of a novel..

So what can we do?  Like so many other aspects of learning -  it comes down to relationships.  If we respect our students' early childhood expediences, and we know that the impact of trauma can last for many, many years even after the experiences are well over, and we know that the human brain has an amazing capacity to heal and grow in the right environment....then we will intuitively know that it all comes down to relationships.

As educators, the best thing we can do for traumatized students is care about them. We can begin by assuming that our learners give us the best that they have to offer in the moment, and that focusing on their strengths, on the things we want to see, will help them to build patterns of success, and help to erase the things that hurt.  We can understand that they're not reactive, or not completing assignments, on purpose to hurt us, or because they don't care.  They're not being lazy or combative.  They're simply using the tools they have available to them in order to cope with what they've experienced in the past.

Just like our students, we won't get it right every day.  We're shaped by our experiences the same as they are.  But if we start from a place of caring and understanding, we'll get it right more often. Traumatized learners can come a long way in a short period of time when surrounded by the care and acceptance they need.  And isn't this something that we want for All Our Kids?

Helpful links on Trauma:

Articles on Core Strengths of Supporting Students with Trauma
http://teacher.scholastic.com/professional/bruceperry/

Article:  Maltreatment and the Developing Child
https://childtrauma.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/McCainLecture_Perry.pdf

            Dr. Bruce Perry - Handout for Caregivers

                                                      https://tinyurl.com/jrfj7s4

                                                      Child Trauma Academy - articles and resources

                                                      http://childtrauma.org/cta-library/

Year of Yes – My New Year’s Resolution

I love it when I read something that leaves me with a phrase or idea, or new bit of motivation to shift things from the way I’ve always done them.

This fall, that book for me was Year of Yes.  It’s written by Shonda Rhimes, who is the writer for a number of TV shows, including Grey’s Anatomy.  That’s actually why I picked it up. I didn’t grab it as a professional resource.  I grabbed it with the notion that something biographical might be a good distraction from the fluff novels I’d been unwinding with at the end of the day.  Over the past few months "Year of Yes" has become a bit of a mantra for me, as I approach situations or opportunities that I might otherwise find intimidating.  It's my self-talk for mustering the bit of courage I need to dive in.

Shonda embarked on a Year of Yes to get out of a rut.  She noticed that she wasn’t embracing life the way she wanted to, and she didn’t want to miss out on things because of her reluctance or fear of engaging with them.  She promised herself that for a whole year, she would say YES to anything that scared her, made her nervous, or she had never tried before, when asked.  The results were transformative.

The first time I announced "Year of Yes" out loud, I somehow found myself harnessed into rock climbing gear and learning to do single rope technique from a bit of rope that had been suspended from a log platform by a bunch of scouts.  The kids had created  their own climbing course by lashing pallets to wooden staves they’d attached about 20 feet up between a couple of trees.  Prior to that day,  I'd declined other opportunities to leave the ground, usually by sharing the story about the time I passed out when I looked back while ascending a climbing wall.  Maybe it was my assertive declaration.  Maybe it was my own children's looks of disbelief at the suggestion I might actually try it.  Maybe it was the encouragement of another scouter who was pretty sure I was good for it.  Whatever it was, that was the moment that my Year of Yes took hold.

Rhimes' story has continued to resonate with me as I’ve tackled some things professionally this fall, too.  While the book contains many more ways that Shonda says Yes, there are a few which I feel are particularly helpful for me in my life as an educator. 

1.  Yes to things that scare her and make her nervous.

I’m terrible at networking.  I have no idea how to “work a room” when I’m in with a bunch of people I don’t know, or when I enter a new environment,  I head to the first familiar person I see and stay put.  For my Year of Yes, I am going to approach AT LEAST one new person every time I find myself in this situation, and do my best to stay in the conversation long enough to learn one thing about them that I didn’t know when I walked into the room.  My husband is great at this.  People around him are at ease because he is at ease.  It’s a quality I have huge respect and admiration for. 

2.  Yes to playing with her children.

Shonda was talking about her kids at home.  I’m working on connecting with the teenagers at my house more often too, but at work, I’m translating this into really connecting and interacting with students.  When I was in a school-based role, this was easier-  although it was still pretty easy to get caught up in the busy of the day and not take time to breathe, and play, with the students.  It’s even harder now that I’m in an itinerant role.

I had the benefit of spending the day at False Bay School on Lasqueti Island just before Christmas.  They were working on their Christmas production, and the student I was there to see wasn’t too fussed about giving up his time to do an assessment with me, so I ended up spending the day getting to know him a little, enjoying the rehearsal for Annie, making plasticine cakes with some grade fours, crouching down with some primary students to observe a heron across the field at lunch.  I was embraced by this community of learners who hardly knew me, and am super excited to be going back to spend another day with them in the new year.  I’m also confident that the assessment will come off without a hitch when I head back next time.  I know a whole bunch about this little guy that I had no idea about on my way to the school that morning.  Playing with these learners helped me get to know them, and to contribute to their learning, even when I was there for only one day.


3.  Yes to being (more) open and honest in difficult conversations.

For me, this takes the most courage of all.  It’s a conversation that we’ve had as a team of administrators many times.  It is so difficult to approach other professionals and ask challenging questions about their interactions with others, or about their approach to instructional practice in their classrooms.   I work really hard to stay focused on the needs of learners, and to facilitate open conversation as much as I can, but I also know there are times when I “shelve” some of the conversation I’d intended to have out of concern about the listener’s response.  I also know that I occasionally minimize the depth of concern or frustration I am feeling over something for the same reason.  I would like to practice being clear and direct, and trying harder to fully say what needs to be said, more often.  I know I have good relationships with my colleagues, and I know that when I have taken the plunge, I’ve generally been pleased with the outcome.  My experience has been that the best approach is to seek a common goal (which in my context is usually what is best for the kids).    During my Year of Yes, I want to be more courageous about taking this on, without losing a night or two of sleep over it first…

4.  Yes to saying no. (Guilt free).
With the help of her children, Shonda found three ways to say no.  1. No.  2. That's not going to work for me.  3. I'm going to be unable to do that.

I simply need to learn how to sit on my hands.  I am a joiner.  A committee joiner.  A conversation joiner.  A project joiner.  I love to be in the thick of things.  It’s how I learn best.  It’s not, however, how I listen best.  Volunteering for everything under the sun doesn’t give you enough time to do the first three things I’ve chosen for this Year of Yes.  If I’m going to network more effectively,  learn from others in new situations, take time to connect with students and learn from them as I watch them play and engage with learning, and be thoughtful and courageous in difficult conversations, I’m going to have to ensure I create some time and space for this work.  Shonda's three rules will be helpful for me, for sure.  I think I need to add one more to say to myself.  "No.   Listen.  You don't need to say anything right now."

I believe that embarking on my own Year of Yes will help me to become more thoughtful and reflective in my work, and help me to work with colleagues more effectively.  Research has shown  that the biggest indicator of student success is teacher efficacy.  If I can increase my own efficacy, it will help me work with other educators in a deeper way, which will in turn, help us to serve the children we teach.

Two quotes from Shonda sum up the power of this mantra.

"The Year of Yes, I realize, has become a snowball rolling down a hill. Each yes rolls into the next into the next and the snowball is growing and growing and growing. Every yes changes something in me. Every yes is a bit more transformative. Every yes sparks some new phase of evolution."

and

“Standing around like Wonder Woman in the morning can make people think you are more amazing at lunchtime.”

The Year of Yes is important for me, because helping myself  to have courage, and to feel powerful, will allow me to help my students to feel the same way.  A worthy goal -  after all,  they're all our kids.

Improving Student Outcomes through Case Study Inquiry

Last year, I facilitated a Case Study Inquiry project with teams from several different schools in the district.

Learning Services teachers partnered with classroom teachers to focus on an individual student they were concerned about, developing a deep understanding of that student's needs and exploring some learning tools and strategies to support that student in moving forward.

A team of us are getting reading to present this work at the Learning Forward Conference in Vancouver next month, so we've been reviewing and reflecting on our journey.  Personally, I've been thinking about my role as an educational leader, and thinking about ways to support teams in continued exploration, in finding ways for last year's learning to sustain itself,   How can I help professional development conversations from last year to become sustained pedagogical practice in the future?

Without exception, the most successful teams shared two key elements:

1.  GENUINELY KNOWING THE STUDENT.
Not just as data, but as a learner, as a person, as a member of the classroom and community.

2.  REAL COLLABORATION.
Regular, open, focused, goal-oriented, data-supported collaboration.



The evolution of the individual teams was really interesting to watch.  When we did our initial introductions in the fall, I asked everyone about their students, so that we could figure out what tools and strategies might be helpful to explore for them.  I was told things like:

• He's stubborn but likable.
• She doesn't attend, isn't connected to other students, won't accept help.
• She has VERY ingrained habits, no initiative for academics.
• He is constantly negotiating, shutting down and not trying.

When we checked back in at the end of May, the same students were described in this way:

• He's attentive, kind, empathetic and gentle.  Always seeking connections (with peers).
• She is developing the courage to take risks, is an independent and active learner.
• Visual spatial skills are a strength, she is proud of her attendance and math skills.
• He's creative and has a good sense of humor.  He has lots of oral knowledge and self esteem is happening.  He has his own identity and accepts his autism.

At no point during the year did I ask people to move to a strengths-based lens.  People were not asked to look for strengths, or to "focus on the positive."  I didn't point out that focusing on deficits or challenges made it harder to help these learners.  A strength-based approach just grew.  And was celebrated.

What was responsible for this shift?  How did these teams grow to know their learners so deeply, and move them so far over the course of a school year?  

I believe it was learning how to collaborate meaningfully and regularly.  Each time we got together as a larger learning community, people were asked to provide an update on their focus student.  They were asked to identify areas where their student was having success, and areas where lagging skills were still of concern.  There was a team of us facilitating the large-group sessions, we divided up the questions and focused on areas we thought would be of value to the teams.

At first, it was difficult.  Much of the feedback focused on work habits, attitude toward learning, and learners' challenges.  Undoubtedly this was partly due to the first session happening fairly early in the year, but we could also tell that people had chosen their focus students because they really were seeking some new ideas and strategies.  These were hard kids to figure out.   If they hadn't been, they wouldn't have been chosen for the project.

The team of four (myself, our SET BC District Partner, our Technology Teaching and Learning Resource Teacher, and the SET BC Consultant), poured over the information we'd been given, and determined that the best place to start was with some whole-class tools for instruction.  We needed to help the teams have a way to include their focus student, along with everyone else, into the instruction and lessons.  For this second gathering, we focused on whole-class lessons with Kurzweil, using Google tools and online math resources, and a few flexible iPad apps.  

Next was some more data collection, to see which of these tools had landed, and which ones needed more support or adjustment.  After a survey of participants, we worked to narrow the questions more specifically, visited some classrooms, and tweaked our suggestions/supports in a more individual way for the teams.  We also spent some time considering big ideas and core competencies, and borrowed heavily from Shelley Moore's website resources (blogsomemoore.com).  

We talked lots about "All, Some and Few" as a planning framework, considering the importance of EVERY learner in the room being part of every lesson.  Not in an adapted, or a sit-with-an-EA at the back kind of way, but in a "we-picked-a-starting-point-everyone-can-launch-from" kind of way.  

By our May wrap-up, people requested some specific instruction with more of the Chrome tools and extensions, and were excited to share the progress made by their focus students.  We weren't fishing for questions or guessing at which strategies to share.  The teams came with specific questions to support the learning and collaboration that was already occurring.

Do I believe these four sessions were magical opportunities for collaboration?  No way.  But I do believe that bringing people together over time encouraged them to talk in-between the sessions. There was no way to respond to the surveys and questions without talking to their colleague.  Specific questions in terms of identifying strengths, lagging skills, and questions around what teaching strategies and resources would support them,  encouraged teams to work together to encourage next steps. Folks wanted to have things to celebrate when they got together with the large group.  No one wants to be the team that's got nothing to celebrate.   The only way to show forward movement and success was to work together to create it.

Like most change processes, we hit an implementation dip.  When we got together in January, there was more than one team who weren't sure what they were going to share.  A couple of the students had started off well, but had slipped into old patterns, or non-attendance or frustrations.   But this was a collection of highly professional, dedicated, empathetic educators who weren't stepping away from a challenge.  The teams dug in and worked together to make sure they had some news to celebrate for our April gathering.  They poured over student assignments, reflections & observations to find the spark or connection with their learner.  They looked for new ways to reach their focus students and engage them.

It worked.  Regular, focused conversation about the students and their successes let us focus on the lagging skills in a proactive strength-based way.   All of the students in the project had successful experiences in their classrooms.  The teams noticed that the whole class benefited from the strategies being explored.  Teaching for "all" as a way to include the case study students meant teaching for "all" in the classroom as a whole.  

As for my original question: How can I help professional development conversations from last year to become sustained pedagogical practice in the future?   I have a plan.  I'll keep going.  I'll keep getting to  know teachers and learners.  I'll keep offering support and strategies where I can.  I'll keep seeking ways to provide educators with opportunities for ongoing, sustained, focused collaboration.  And I'll remember the lessons learned from this project.  These learners, and their teachers, have so much to be proud of. This learning community truly understood THEY ARE ALL OUR KIDS.