What might have happened to this child?
Alex Gross
Written by Hallie Riggs, MSW, LCSW, CSW-PIP, Clinical Director of the Simply Smiles Children’s Village
In response to a child who is aggressive, withdrawn, anxious, or seemingly disconnected, we are often quick to ask, What is wrong with this child? Some years ago, I was challenged to replace that question with a more important one: What might have happened to this child? That shift in thought has made all the difference in better understanding how to love and support children in crisis.
All behavior is a form of communication. When children are violent, self-injurious, despondent, impulsive, provocative, or uninhibited, rather than becoming exasperated, we can become curious. What might this child be telling me with their behavior? What might be behind the actions I’m seeing? If these behaviors are the tip of the iceberg, what lies beneath the surface?
There are a staggering number of children living in Indian Country who have been exposed to traumatic events, sometimes on a daily basis and over the entire course of their young lives. For these children, the biological responses to trauma—fight, flight, and freeze—have been their most trusted allies. Consider this: evolution has provided all of us with a few ways of navigating danger. We might choose to combat it head-on. For example, a child being bullied at school may become aggressive toward their tormenter as a means of self defense. Then again, we might choose to handle danger by getting away from it as quickly as possible. An example might be a child who flees from home when adults are fighting or using drugs. Lastly, but not to be minimized, we may respond to a threat by doing nothing at all—freezing, waiting for the threat to cease. This can occur in instances of sexual abuse, physical abuse, or witnessing violence at home. A child may become very still or even dissociative, appearing to be somewhere else entirely. This is the brain’s way of protecting them from fully experiencing their horrific reality.
These fight, flight, and freeze responses are truly brilliant. They have kept us safe for thousands of years. The brain and body have been conditioned to determine when a threat is present, respond accordingly, and when it is safe to do so, recover from the enormous physical and mental toll it takes to respond to danger. This “alarm system” is our key to survival. But what happens when every day becomes a fight for self preservation? For children who face daily abuse, neglect, and chaos, their internal alarm system is constantly being set off. They are in a permanent state of survival. Their brains are so hardwired to defend against threats, and the threats come at them so often, that after a while they are in constant defense mode, whether the threats are real or perceived. Better safe than sorry.
For a child who is being physically and sexually abused every night, these survival responses make sense. But what about when that same child enters school in the morning and snaps at the slightest physical contact by another student, the sound of a teacher yelling in the hall, or the smell of rubbing alcohol in the nurse’s office? Without knowing their background, or what they may have endured before being in our care, we may jump to, What is wrong with this child? If we are able to imagine, instead, what might have happened to them to cause these behaviors, we will be met with a somber understanding that what is not considered appropriate behavior in settings like school, daycare, basketball practice, or foster care placement, may have been the very behavior that has kept this child alive.
Still, it’s not enough to simply understand this. How do we fight for the psychological safety of children in our care, even after the physical threat is gone?
For starters, we move slowly. We understand that a lifetime of trauma (and in Indian Country, lifetimes, as historical trauma perpetrated by atrocities such as boarding schools and forced adoptions permeates like a haunting thread that sews one generation to the next) does not go away with some kind gestures, a few interactions with a safe adult, or a new home that is beautiful and bright. These things are important, but they are not magic.
The magic lies in the safety and support of Native American caregivers, who will provide unconditional love and willingness to repair when relationships become strained by the impact of trauma; parenting that is rooted in Native American philosophy, spirituality, and traditions; a strong sense of self, family, and community; an understanding of what it means to be a Takini, a survivor.
The world was introduced to many of our children as a place that is not safe or kind, where adults hurt them and nobody can truly be trusted. With time, patience, and consistency, we have the opportunity to help children in our care reimagine a world where they matter, where they are safe, and where they are loved.
We must also ask the same question that we first started with in response to biological relatives who have harmed their children: What might have happened to them? We can presume that the majority have survived their own traumatic histories while simultaneously carrying the invisible weight of trauma experienced by their parents, extended family, geographic community, and fellow members of their Nation. We repeat what is not repaired. But I also believe that there can always be repair. And so, while children are in the care of our Native foster parents, Simply Smiles will be supporting ongoing efforts to reunify children with their birth families whenever possible.
The first home of the Simply Smiles Children’s Village on the Cheyenne River Reservation under a South Dakota sky.
We envision a future in which children in our care at the Simply Smiles Children’s Village go on to become the next generation of Lakota leaders. We also know that kids cannot dream or plan or imagine their future if they do not first feel safe. That is where we must start. What years of research in the field of neuroscience has taught us is that when the part of the brain that keeps us safe is activated, it takes priority over everything else. The part of the brain that thinks about the future, dreams, relationships, healthy choices, and decision making can’t work at the same time.
Our sole focus at the Children’s Village is creating an external and internal world for our children in which they feel safe enough to imagine who they can become. Our Native foster parents, our Elders, and our Simply Smiles community are the wind at their backs as they forge their own paths toward futures that are bright.
recommended viewing:
Learn more about the importance of understanding behavior through the lens of trauma. Click here to view this 60 Minutes segment on Dr. Bruce Perry’s trauma focused work: