How teachers can help students navigate trauma Lisa Godwin
Everyone has a story,
and that story is filled with chapters
that have made us who we are today.
Those early chapters of that story
sometimes are the ones
that define us the most.
The Center for Disease Control
has estimated that over half
of our nation’s children
have experienced at least
one or two types of childhood trauma.
That adversity can have lasting effects.
When I began to have
opportunities to speak
and advocate for students
and for teachers,
I found myself uniquely positioned
to be able to speak
about childhood trauma.
But I had to make a decision first.
I had to decide,
did I want to just share
the bright and shiny parts of my life,
you know, those ones
that we put out on social media
that make us all look perfect,
or did I want to make myself vulnerable
and become an open book?
The choice became very clear.
In order to make a difference
in the life of a child,
I had to become transparent.
So I made the commitment
to tell my personal story.
And this story is filled
with people that have loved me
and taken care of me and grown me.
And have helped me overcome and heal.
And now it’s time for me
to help others do the same.
When I first started school,
I was the picture of normalcy.
I was from a good family,
I was always dressed nicely,
had a smile on my face,
I was prepared for school.
But my life was anything but normal.
By this time, I had already become
a victim of sexual abuse.
And it was still happening.
My parents didn’t know,
and I had not told anyone else.
When I started school, I felt like
this was going to be my safe place.
So I was excited.
Imagine my dismay when I met my teacher,
Mr. Randolph.
Now Mr. Randolph was not my abuser.
But Mr. Randolph was the epitome
of everything that scared me
the most in my life.
I had already started
these self-preservation techniques
to where I took myself out of positions
where I was going to be alone with a man.
And here I was, as a student,
I was going to be in a classroom
with a man every day,
for a year of school.
I was scared; I didn’t trust him.
But you know what,
Mr. Randolph would turn out
to be my greatest advocate.
But in the beginning,
oh, I made sure he knew
I did not like him.
I was noncompliant;
I was that kid that was disengaged.
And I also made it really hard
on my parents, too.
I didn’t want to go to school,
so I fought them every morning,
getting on the bus.
At night, I couldn’t sleep,
because my anxiety was so high.
So I was going into class exhausted.
Which, exhausted children
are cranky children,
and they’re not easy to teach,
you know that.
Mr. Randolph could have
approached me with frustration,
like so many teachers do
with students like me.
But not him.
He approached me with empathy
and with flexibility.
I was so grateful for that.
He saw this six-year-old
was tired and weary.
And so instead of making me
go outside for recess,
he would let me stay in and take naps,
because he knew I needed rest.
Instead of sitting
at the teacher table at lunch,
he would come and sit with the students
at the student table.
He would engage me
and all my classmates in conversation.
And I now look back and I know
he had a purpose for that,
he was listening, he was asking questions.
He needed to find out what was going on.
He built a relationship with me.
He earned my trust.
And slowly but surely,
those walls that I had built around myself
he started chipping away at,
and I eventually realized
he was one of the good guys.
I know that he felt like he wasn’t enough.
Because he made the move
to talk to my mom.
And got my mom’s permission
to let me start seeing
a school guidance counselor,
Ms. McFadyen.
I started seeing Ms. McFadyen
once or twice a week
for the next two years.
It was a process.
During that time period,
I never disclosed to her the abuse,
because it was a secret;
I wasn’t supposed to tell.
But she connected the dots,
I know she did,
because everything that she did with me
was to empower me
and help me find my voice.
She taught me how to use mental images
to push through my fears.
She taught me breathing techniques
to help me get through
those anxiety attacks
that I would have so often.
And she role-played with me.
And she made sure
that I could stand up
for myself in situations.
And the day came
where I was in the room with my abuser
and one other adult.
And I told my truth.
I told about the abuse.
Immediately, my abuser began to deny,
and the person I disclosed to,
they just weren’t equipped
to handle the bombshell
that I had just dropped on them.
It was easier to believe the abuser
rather than a child.
So I was told never to speak of it again.
I was made to feel like I had done
something wrong, again.
It was devastating.
But you know what,
something good came out of that day.
My abuser knew that I was no longer
going to be silent.
The power shifted.
And the abuse stopped.
(Applause)
But the shame
and fear of it happening again
remained.
And it would remain with me
for many, many years to come.
Mr. Randolph and Ms. McFadyen,
they helped me find my voice.
They helped me find the light out.
But you know what,
there are so many kids
that aren’t as fortunate as me.
And you have them in your classrooms.
That is why it’s so important for me
to talk to you today,
so you can be aware
and you can start asking the questions
that need to be asked
and paying attention to these students,
so you too can help them find their way.
As a kindergarten teacher,
I start my year off
with my kids making box biographies.
These are two of my students.
And I encourage them
to fill those boxes with things
that tell me about them
and about their life,
what’s important to you, you know?
They decorate them,
I mean, they really take time,
they fill them with pictures
of their families and of their pets,
and then I let them present them
to me and to the class.
And during that time,
I am an active listener.
Because the things they say,
the facial expressions that they give me,
the things they don’t say
can become red flags for me
and can help me figure out
what their needs are.
What is driving them
to maybe have the behaviors
that they’re showing me in class.
How can I be a better teacher
by listening to their voices?
I also make times to develop
relationships with them,
much like Mr. Randolph did with me.
I sit with them at lunch,
I have conversations with them at recess,
I go to their games on the weekends,
I go to their dance recitals.
I become a part of their life.
Because in order to really know a student,
you’ve got to infuse yourself
into their lives.
Now I know some of you
are middle school teachers
and high school teachers,
and you might think that those kids
have already kind of
developed, and you know,
they’re on autopilot at that point.
But don’t be deceived.
Especially the kids that you think
have it all together,
because those are the ones
that might need you the most.
If you were to look at my yearbook,
you would see me on about every page,
because I was involved in everything.
I even drove a school bus.
(Laughs)
So I was that kid
that teachers thought
was the overachiever,
the popular person,
the one that had it together.
But guys, I was lost.
I was lost,
and I wanted someone to ask me,
“Lisa, why are you here all the time,
why are you throwing yourself
into all these things?”
Did they ever wonder,
was I running away from someone,
was I running away from something?
Why did I not want to be in my community
or in my home?
Why did I want to be
at school all the time?
No one ever asked.
Now don’t get me wrong,
all overachievers in your schools
are not victims of abuse or trauma.
But I just want you
to take the time to be curious.
Ask them why.
You may find out
that there is a reason behind it.
You could be the reason
that they move forward
with their story.
Be careful not to assume
that you already know
the ending to their story.
Don’t put a period
where a semicolon should be.
Keep that story going
and help them know that even if
something has happened traumatic to them,
that their life is still worth telling.
Their story is worth telling.
Now in order to do that,
I really feel like we have to embrace
our own personal stories as educators.
Many of you might be sitting there
and thinking, “Yeah.
That happened to me.
But I’m not ready to share.”
And that’s OK.
The time will come
when you will feel it inside your soul
that it’s time to turn your past pain
into purpose for the future.
These children are our future.
I just encourage you
to take it day by day.
Talk to someone.
Be willing and just open.
My life story came full circle
in the spring of 2018,
where I was invited to speak
to a group of beginning
teachers and mentors.
I shared my story,
much like today with you,
and afterwards I had a lady approach me.
She had tears in her eyes
and she quietly said, “Thank you.
Thank you for sharing.
I cannot wait to tell my dad
everything that I heard today.”
She must have seen
the perplexed look on my face,
because she followed up by saying,
“Mr. Randolph is my dad.”
Audience: Aww.
Lisa Godwin: “And he often wonders:
Did he make a difference?
Today, I get to go home and tell him,
‘You definitely made a difference.'”
What a gift.
What a gift.
And that prompted me
to reach out to Ms. McFadyen’s
daughter as well,
and to share with her
what an impact Ms. McFadyen had made.
And I wanted her to know
I have advocated for more funding
for guidance counselors,
for school social workers,
for psychologists, for nurses,
because they are so vital
to the mental and physical health
of our children.
I’m thankful for Ms. McFadyen.
(Applause)
I once heard someone say,
in order to find your way
out of the darkness,
you have to find the light.
Today, I hope that you leave this place
and you seek opportunities
to be the light.
For not only students
but for adults in your classrooms,
in your schools, in your communities.
You have the gift
to help someone navigate
through their trauma
and make their story worth telling.
Thank you.
(Applause)