My journey through adulthood has involved extensive learning about the effects of complex trauma for my own wellbeing and for use professionally, being a teacher for 20 years.

In the second half of my career, it has been pleasing to see the awareness of trauma grow within the education community.  Knowledge of the signs of childhood trauma is integral as an educator, ensuring identification of children who require help.

 Also, an understanding of the changes to the brain caused by trauma provides important beginning knowledge that is applicable in education.

In education we’ve adopted a common language of trauma, using terms such as ‘Trauma-Informed Practice’. These terms were created to ensure teachers and schools were educated on the effects of trauma.

They are thought to have a positive impact in schools, but in my experience as a professional and a survivor who has been learning about trauma for two decades, they are, in fact, detrimental.

I recently casually inserted the words, ‘Down Syndrome-Informed Practice’ into a professional conversation. Jaws dropped. The feeling was that there was something just not right about it, something borderline offensive, maybe even discriminatory. 

The term caused others to feel uncomfortable because it’s based on the assumption that the effect of having Down Syndrome is consistent for all; that all individuals with Down Syndrome are the same and thus can be broadly grouped.

One could also try looking through a ‘Down Syndrome-Informed Lens’. This term is likely to provoke the same feelings of discomfort, because if you’re watching a child through such a lens, you’re viewing them as having Down Syndrome first.

The terms ‘Trauma-Informed Lens’ and ‘Trauma-Informed Practice’ aren’t individual-first language. 

What’s more, the terms do not promote differentiation. They are a catch-all net, pulling in anything in the ocean based on the belief that everything that exists in salt water is similar.

Children who’ve experienced trauma might have commonalities in how their brain is affected, but how they deal with changes to learning and emotions can be as different as children on the autism spectrum. Yet, we don’t invent huge umbrella terms referring to how we work with children with autism.

The truth is, if these terms were attributed to another group of children who may require adjustments in educational settings, they’d be labelled discriminatory.

Note the use of the word ‘may’. Not all children of trauma require educational adjustments and some children of trauma may require adjustments only for a short period. 

I wasn’t like every other child who’d experienced trauma, just as I’m not like every other adult who’s experienced trauma. My behaviours weren’t the same as every other child, my personality wasn’t the same, how I saw the world wasn’t the same, how I saw school wasn’t the same. Nor is it likely to be for children of trauma that you are teaching.

A few years ago, I was teaching a girl who comes from a traumatic background. Her siblings had experienced difficulty with learning and also exhibited challenging behaviour. She, however, was very focussed on learning and enjoyed school. She worked hard, was achieving well, and demonstrated pride in what she was accomplishing. 

One day, a senior teacher came into my classroom with some older, buddy helpers. He looked at the girl with sadness and asked what I did differently for her in the classroom. I told him that she had experienced one morning that year when she was upset and I was there for her, supported her and provided for her needs. Then she went back to learning. 

The girl knew I was there for her if she needed me. We’d established a strong, open, caring relationship just as I do with all children. 

The senior teacher’s question assumed the girl needed major, visible adjustments within the classroom. She didn’t. Learning gave her a sense of power, of control and success. 

Looking through a trauma lens, he no longer saw the girl, he only saw the trauma.

If he’d looked at the child first, he would’ve seen that being a successful learner gave her so much of what many children of trauma lack at home: control, power, self-confidence. 

This girl was not gifted, she was achieving all the required benchmarks, but to her that meant so much. It meant she belonged.

Trauma psychologists don’t use the terms ‘Trauma-Informed’ anything; they don’t look through any kind of lens.

We can develop a deep understanding of trauma to help children who require it without using these terms. They are leading us away from quality differentiation.

The child must always come first, not the disability, nor the trauma.