Twenty-six years ago, I began my teaching career with a passion for making a difference and the advice, “Don’t let them see you smile until January.” My first position was teaching third grade in a predominantly Black, low-income community. I entered the classroom ready to love my students and lead them with firm expectations and strict consequences. I believed my role was to instill discipline through compliance and control. Don’t get me wrong, I cared for my students deeply, and I wanted them to know that.  However, my version of “tough love” was rooted in high standards enforced through unwavering authority.

It would take more than fifteen years and countless missteps to understand just how misguided that mindset was.  That realization came when I heard the words, “Tough love only works when a child feels the love first.” I had operated under the belief that students would rise to meet my expectations through the combination of fear of consequences along with a caring intent, without realizing that connection, not compliance, is what fuels learning and growth.

A Shift in Focus

After seven years in the classroom, I transitioned into the role of instructional coach in an elementary school that served a high population of immigrant families and students from low socioeconomic backgrounds. I believed then, as I still do, that literacy is a critical key to lifelong success. I worked tirelessly to ensure academic rigor and instructional fidelity. I advocated for maximizing instructional minutes, even lobbying against increasing time for social-emotional learning (SEL), believing it took away from what I viewed as “critical learning.”

Looking back, I am embarrassed to admit that I questioned the relevance of school counselors on academic teams. My thinking was narrowly focused on reading, writing, and math as the only paths to student success. Emotional well-being, I believed, was not something schools should be responsible for.

That belief system began to crumble as I spent more time working with teachers on classroom management and responding to student crises. As a member of our school’s crisis response team, I found myself repeatedly working to de-escalate emotionally overwhelmed students. I was exhausted, confused, and heartbroken. I couldn’t understand why our carefully crafted behavior systems weren’t working.

The “Aha” Moment

Everything changed one evening when I attended a presentation by a child psychiatrist on the impact of childhood trauma. That night introduced me to concepts I had never heard of: ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences), toxic stress, the fight-flight-freeze response, and triggers. I went home and immediately watched the documentary Paper Tigers and ordered The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Dr. Bruce Perry.

That was the moment I began a 180-degree shift in my educational philosophy. I moved from being a compliance-focused educator, prioritizing academic instruction above all else, to becoming a trauma-informed, brain-aligned advocate for student well-being. I came to understand that without safety and connection, academic rigor means very little.

Over the past ten years, I have immersed myself in the research and practices of trauma-informed education. I still maintain high expectations, but I now understand that success requires meeting students where they are and supporting them individually. I continue to value structure, but I have learned to build flexibility into my routines. I now believe that respect must be mutual and shown from day one, not held back until January.

A Slow but Steady Transformation

While my mindset shifted almost overnight, transforming my practice took years. And my journey continues.  In my current role as a Social Emotional Behavior Support Specialist, I frequently reflect on how far I’ve come and how I can support others in making their own journey. Some educators are eager to embrace new approaches. Others remain deeply rooted in traditional systems. I’ve learned that change requires more than passion; it requires patience, persistence, and partnership.

Here are three lessons I’ve learned that can guide others on the path to trauma-informed practice:

1. Commit to Continuous Learning

There is a wealth of free, high-quality resources available to educators interested in trauma-informed education. Articles, podcasts, webinars, and books from experts like Dr. Bruce Perry, Dr. Mona Delahooke, and Dr. Lori Desautels have been instrumental in my growth. Their work has given me the knowledge and the courage to speak up when I see opportunities to support students more effectively.

2. Find Your Allies

At the start of my journey, I often felt like the lone voice in the room. But by sharing my learning, engaging in professional networks, and attending conferences, I began to find like-minded educators. One of the most transformative experiences was participating in Dr. Desautels’ Applied Educational Neuroscience Certification program through Butler University. Meeting virtually with educators from around the world helped me feel supported, empowered, and inspired to keep going.

3. Honor the Journey of Others

Change is difficult, and some educators need the opportunity to discover their “why” before they adjust their “how.” Just as we differentiate for our students, we must meet our colleagues where they are. Mindset and practice rarely shift overnight. We must start by sharing the science and then offering tangible, supportive strategies. If we ask teachers to abandon familiar tools, like behavior clip charts, we must equip them with effective alternatives. And we must recognize that not everyone will change, despite our best efforts. Our energy is best spent nurturing those who are ready to grow.

Looking Ahead

Today, I am proud to be part of a district-level team focused on building the capacity of all educators to implement trauma-informed, neuroscience-aligned practices. What once felt like a lonely journey has grown into a movement. We have the research. We have the tools. Now we need the will—and the collective action.

As Maya Angelou said, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” We now know better. It is our obligation to do better for our students, for our colleagues, and for the future of education.

Recommended Resources

Books

• Becoming a Trauma-Informed Restorative Educator – Joe Brummer
• Beyond Behavior – Dr. Mona Delahooke
• Connections Over Compliance – Dr. Lori Desautels
• What Happened to You? – Dr. Bruce Perry & Oprah Winfrey

Websites

• Revelations in Education – Dr. Lori Desautels
• Blog Archives – Dr. Mona Delahooke
• Alliance Against Seclusion and Restraint
• Supportable Solutions