CJ 720 Trauma & Crisis Intervention Blog

Beyond a Single Event: Understanding Complex and Developmental Trauma

When most people think of trauma, they imagine a discrete, identifiable event, it could a car accident, a natural disaster, a single violent incident. Much of our early clinical and diagnostic language was built around this model. PTSD, as defined in the DSM, emerged largely from observations of combat veterans and survivors of acute catastrophe. But what happens when trauma is not an event but an environment? What happens when it is the water a child swims in, day after day, year after year?

This question sits at the heart of what clinicians and researchers now call complex trauma and, more specifically, developmental trauma — two related but distinct concepts that demand a more expansive view of how adversity shapes human beings.

Complex trauma, as described by Judith Herman in her foundational work Trauma and Recovery (1992), refers to prolonged, repeated interpersonal trauma — captivity, ongoing domestic violence, childhood abuse, often in situations where escape is impossible or extremely difficult. Herman proposed a diagnosis she called "Complex PTSD" or "Disorders of Extreme Stress Not Otherwise Specified" (DESNOS), arguing that chronic trauma produces a distinct and broader symptom profile than single-event PTSD.

Developmental trauma is a more specific term, focused on complex trauma that occurs during childhood, when the brain and nervous system are still forming. Pioneered by Bessel van der Kolk and colleagues at the National Child Traumatic Stress Network (NCTSN), developmental trauma recognizes that early repeated adversity does not simply create PTSD symptoms in a young person — it fundamentally alters the architecture of the developing brain, the regulation of emotion, and the child's working model of relationships and the self.

The standard PTSD model is largely built on a fear-conditioning paradigm: a terrifying event creates a strong, poorly integrated memory, and certain cues trigger a re-experiencing of that fear. Treatment, accordingly, often focuses on processing that specific memory — approaches like Prolonged Exposure or EMDR are well-validated for this population.

Developmental trauma presents differently. When adversity is chronic and relational — when the source of fear is also a caregiver — the child faces an impossible bind. They cannot flee, they cannot fight, and the person who should be a safe haven is the source of danger. This leads to profound disorganization in the attachment system. Rather than a single intrusive memory, the individual may struggle with pervasive affect dysregulation, dissociation, chronic shame, an unstable sense of identity, and deep difficulty trusting others.

Van der Kolk and colleagues have described this profile under the proposed diagnosis of Developmental Trauma Disorder (DTD), which has not yet been included in the DSM-5, though Complex PTSD did receive formal recognition in the ICD-11 (WHO, 2018). The failure of existing categories to capture this population has real clinical consequences: children and adolescents with complex trauma histories are frequently misdiagnosed with ADHD, bipolar disorder, conduct disorder, or borderline personality disorder, diagnoses that do not address the underlying traumatic etiology.

One of the most important contributions to understanding developmental trauma came not from clinical psychology but from epidemiology. The Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) study, conducted by Felitti et al. (1998) in collaboration with the CDC and Kaiser Permanente, surveyed over 17,000 adults about their childhood exposure to ten categories of adversity and tracked their health outcomes.

The findings were striking. ACEs were remarkably common, and they were dose-dependent: the higher an individual's ACE score, the greater their risk for a wide range of negative outcomes, including depression, substance use disorder, heart disease, cancer, and early death. The study helped establish that childhood adversity is not a niche clinical concern but a fundamental public health issue with lifelong biological consequences.

It would be incomplete to discuss developmental trauma without acknowledging that adversity does not uniformly determine outcomes. Research on resilience — including the landmark Kauai longitudinal study by Werner and Smith — demonstrates that protective factors such as one stable supportive relationship, strong temperament, and community connection can significantly buffer the effects of early adversity. Practitioners working in this field must hold both the real and lasting impacts of developmental trauma and a genuine belief in the capacity for growth, healing, and meaningful change.

The goal, ultimately, is not to define clients by their ACE scores or their symptom profiles, but to understand the logic of survival strategies that were adaptive in dangerous early environments. and ultimately, to help individuals expand their repertoire of responses as they move through a world that, ideally, is safer than the one they grew up in.

A Deeper Look: How Trauma Affects Students Academic Behaviors

Introduction

When individuals such as family, friends, or peers witness students struggling in school, it is assumed that they are simply “misbehaving” or not trying hard enough. Yet, that is not always the case. What is often looked at as trouble, overlooks the role that trauma plays in students lives. It is never known exactly what students might be carrying, some hold experiences of violence, or abuse within their home environment. These experiences travel with them from outside their home, then into the classroom, shaping how students engage within their academics and peers.
By understanding trauma, it changes the way we will view students behavior. What might be labeled as a lack of effort, can be one's response to stress,pain, PTSD, anxiety, etc. Understanding is the most effective tool.


Mental Health

Trauma holds an immense effect on a young adult’s mental health. Students who experience trauma(s) are at the high risk of developing depression, anxiety, traumatic stress disorders such as PTSD, etc. These conditions can make students feel overwhelmed, or stressed and distracted. This hinders their ability to think properly, and instead of paying attention in class they might be distracted by their thoughts, making their learning process harder.

Trauma impacts not only how students feel about themselves and their lives, but it impacts their academic performance and engagement with their peers. When students experience trauma it affects their grades and school activities (clubs, sports, extracurriculars, attendance, etc).
When schools start pointing their fingers to the students, they target it as “fixing” the “problem”, when it’s the wrong thing. Instead of focusing on proper trauma informed care practices, schools result in creating deeper risks, pulling the students away from wanting or seeking proper treatment. Responding only with punishment risks the root of the problem.


Why does this matter

Students are not able to focus on their academics and learning abilities if their needs are not being met properly. If students are feeling unheard it can lead them to pull away from their studies, explaining why they might struggle with their attention and behavior. Although it may feel as if they have no way to cope with their emotions, some students might demonstrate resilience, focusing heavily on their academics and setting high expectations for themselves. This is why the education system must implement trauma focused approaches that are beneficial to all students. Schools must stop basing help on one student's experiences and treating all students to one policy, especially since all experiences are different.

- Creating safe, supportive classrooms
- Checking in with students, showing care and support
- Allowing students to express their emotions
- Teacher gestures

Challegnes 

- There are limitations on what teachers can do
- Schools lack proper resources
- Does not improve home/out of school experiences
- Trauma is connected to deeper issues (typically rooted in the home)

Conclusion

Trauma has multiple impacts on a student's academic performance and their behavior. Trauma is not something that can be ignored within school walls, nor is it something that can be treated the same as different individuals. Schools won't be able to treat all student’s trauma, but they can implement supportive policies followed by a supportive setting. Awareness is how schools must move forward, increasing trauma informed care practices that are found amongst educational institutions.

References

Frieze, Stephanie. “How Trauma Affects Student Learning and Behaviour.” BU Journal of Graduate Studies in Education, 2015, pp. 1–8, https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ1230675.pdf.

Dods, Jennifer. “Bringing trauma to school: Sharing the educational experience of three youths.” Exceptionality Education International, vol. 25, no. 1, 21 Mar. 2015, https://doi.org/10.5206/eei.v25i1.7719.

The Limits of AI in Trauma-Informed Care

Going through this course allows for deep reflections about trauma-informed care and its focus on human connection, trust, and emotional concerns. Ironically, the first time I thought about AI in correctional mental health care, the paradigm of trauma-informed care did not cross my mind. I saw the benefits to the technology’s ability to provide care demand, to locate and assess people in need, and to provide help where there aren’t mental health care workers. However, in the most extreme and troubling of care, AI can render itself to be the most effective to the most needy.

The more I am able to reflect on trauma, the more I realize the level of healing necessary for the work that is most needed is extremely labor intensive. Trauma is the most extreme form of emotional and mental lockdown. After a trauma, people can’t be expected to be able to Trust and keep the most basic form of safety. Trauma seeks an emotional healing. Where AI is able to learn, it is not able to be the healer and be the most humane of care. Loss of AI is the most extreme level of compassion. AI makes a true loss of the most basic loss of care; people.

The constant monitoring through AI is something I worry most about trauma healing. The AI constant monitoring invites an increase in trauma. In reward based settings of our correctional system, the monitoring is designed to create a lack of control; in the most extreme of the work to regain safety and Trust of the most basic. AI is not a healer, it is an extreme loss of safety. The work to regain Trust and safety from a trauma system should always be worked from the level of the most basic humane care. AI is not that.

I think trauma-informed care is where AI can have a positive impact as long as it's used responsibly. AI can support professionals by locating individuals requiring support and enhancing the availability of care. Improving accessibility to care shouldn't be at the expense of the many human relationships involved in treating and caring for the mental well-being of a person. Trauma-informed care is not only about the care itself; it's about creating a space of safety, trust, and empathy through real connections and human-based relationships. I have also found comfort in the balance of innovation and simplicity. Healing from trauma is a very personal experience, and for professionals, real recovery involvement should be the core of their understanding. AI provides a new way of viewing care, but it is not a replacement for human-based relationships.

References

The Body Keeps the Score
van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. (2024). Trauma-informed approaches and programs. U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

Trauma and Recovery
Herman, J. L. (2015). Trauma and recovery: The aftermath of violence—From domestic abuse to political terror (Rev. ed.). Basic Books.

The Psychedelic Turn in Trauma Treatment: A Critical Examination

In recent years, psychedelic substances — particularly MDMA, psilocybin, and ketamine — have attracted significant attention in clinical research circles and popular media alike as potential tools for trauma treatment. Major publications have heralded a so-called "psychedelic renaissance," and some researchers have described early-stage trial results with considerable optimism. However, a closer and more critical reading of the current evidence reveals that the field remains in its infancy, and that framing psychedelics as an established or broadly appropriate form of trauma treatment is premature, potentially misleading, and ethically problematic.

The limits of current research

While there are peer-reviewed studies — most notably trials exploring MDMA-assisted psychotherapy for PTSD conducted by the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) — it is essential to scrutinize these findings carefully. These trials have involved small sample sizes, highly controlled settings, and very specific participant profiles. Critically, the "treatment" in these studies is not the psychedelic substance alone; it is a structured psychotherapy protocol in which the substance is used as an adjunct. The conflation of psychedelics as a treatment with psychedelics as a tool used within a broader clinical framework is a distinction that is frequently lost in public discourse.

Furthermore, the FDA declined to approve MDMA-assisted therapy in 2024, citing concerns about trial design, data integrity, and the need for more rigorous replication. This is not a minor footnote — it signals that even the most well-funded and advocated psychedelic research has not yet met the evidentiary standards required for clinical approval.

Risks and contraindications

Trauma survivors present a particularly vulnerable population when considering any pharmacological intervention. Psychedelic substances can provoke intense emotional and perceptual experiences — including the re-emergence of traumatic material — that may be destabilizing without proper therapeutic containment. For individuals with complex trauma histories, dissociative disorders, or co-occurring psychosis-spectrum conditions, psychedelic experiences can pose significant risks of retraumatization or psychiatric crisis. The literature on adverse events in psychedelic trials, though sometimes underreported, includes cases of acute psychological distress, prolonged perceptual disturbances (HPPD), and abuse of the therapeutic relationship in highly intimate treatment settings.

It is also worth noting that psychedelics remain Schedule I controlled substances in the United States, meaning that outside of tightly regulated research contexts, their use is illegal. The proliferation of unregulated "healing retreats" and underground facilitation — often marketed directly to trauma survivors seeking relief — operates without clinical oversight, standardized protocols, or meaningful accountability. This is a serious public health concern that practitioners in the trauma field must be prepared to address with clients.

Evidence-based alternatives

It is important to recognize that effective, well-validated trauma treatment modalities already exist. Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (TF-CBT), Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), Prolonged Exposure (PE), and Somatic Experiencing each have robust bodies of evidence supporting their efficacy across diverse populations. These approaches are accessible, replicable, and do not carry the legal, medical, or ethical complications associated with psychedelic use. For practitioners working in the field, centering these established treatments — and advocating for equitable access to them — remains a far more grounded and responsible priority than directing clients toward experimental interventions of uncertain safety.

A note on cultural and ethical dimensions

Some proponents of psychedelic-assisted therapy point to Indigenous ceremonial traditions involving plant medicines as a basis for therapeutic legitimacy. While it is important to approach these traditions with respect and cultural humility, equating Indigenous ceremonial practice with clinical trauma treatment reflects a problematic form of appropriation that strips spiritual practices of their cultural context. Trauma practitioners must be thoughtful about how enthusiasm for psychedelics in Western clinical settings can inadvertently reproduce dynamics of cultural extraction, particularly when these practices originate in communities that have themselves experienced significant collective trauma.

Conclusion

The excitement surrounding psychedelic research is understandable — trauma is a field where the need for effective intervention is urgent and profound. However, that urgency must not lead us to outpace the evidence. Psychedelics are not, at this time, an established or recommended treatment for trauma. They are a subject of ongoing and contested research, not a clinical solution. As scholars and practitioners, our obligation is to rigorously evaluate the evidence we encounter, advocate for our clients' safety, and resist the pull of narratives that promise more than the science currently supports.

Key references: Mitchell et al. (2021), Nature Medicine; FDA briefing documents on MDMA-assisted therapy (2024); van der Kolk, B. (2014), The Body Keeps the Score; Foa, E. et al. (2019), Prolonged Exposure for PTSD; Shapiro, F. (2018), Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing.

Behind Closed Doors: The Truth About Domestic Violence and How to Stop it

When individuals think about trauma, they often imagine something sudden or even extreme. The truth is, from many survivors of domestic violence, trauma happens quietly– Behind closed doors, and every day moments that slowly build into long-term emotional and psychological harm.

In the United States, domestic violence is more common than many realize. Research shows that about 22% of women experience intimate partner violence, yet less than 40% to seek help. The guy alone says a lot. It reflects not just fear, but also the lasting trauma that can make speaking out almost feel impossible. Domestic violence is not only physical. It includes emotional, verbal, and sexual abuse– forms of harm that often leave invisible scars. These experiences can lead to anxiety, depression, and even post-traumatic stress disorder, making it difficult for survivors to feel safe, trust others, or regain control over their lives. 

This is where the violence against women act becomes important. Created in 1994, VAWA was designed to respond to the serious issue of violence against women by funding support services, legal aid, and law enforcement training. On paper, it represents progress, and in many ways, it is. Through VAWA, survivors can access counseling, legal support, and protective services. These resources are essential because trauma doesn't end when the abuse stops. Healing requires time, support, and access to care. Therapy, for example, can help survivors process what they've experienced and begin to rebuild their sense of self. 

But while VAWA has made a difference, it is not perfect. One major issue is accessibility. Many survivors still struggled to find services due to long waitlists, distance, or lack of available resources in their area. When someone is already dealing with trauma, barriers like these can discourage them from seeking help at all. 

Another issue is how trauma is handled within the criminal justice system. Even though law enforcement receives training, not all officers fully understand the emotional and psychological impact of abuse. Survivors may feel dismissed, misunderstood, or even blamed. This can deepen their trial instead of helping them recover. There is also the question of inclusivity. While VAWA focuses on women, domestic violence affects people of all genders. Statistics show that one in four men also experienced physical violence from a partner. A more inclusive approach could ensure that all survivors feel seen and supported.

From my perspective, this is where changes are needed. Informed care should be at the center of every response to domestic violence– whether it's law enforcement, legal systems, or support services. Survivors need to feel believed, understood, and supported, not just questioned or overlooked. Domestic violence is not just a legal issue; it’s a trauma issue. If we do not address the trauma, we're only solving part of the problem.

VAWA is a step in the right direction, but it shouldn't be the final step. Expanding access to services, improving trauma and form training, and making support more inclusive are all necessary if we want to truly help survivors heal. At the end of the day, healing from trauma isn't just about surviving; it's about being able to live without fear. 

References

National Coalition Against Domestic Violence https://ncadv.org/STATISTICS#:~:text=1%20in%203%20women%20and,be%20 considered%20%22 domestic%20violence.%22 text=1%20in%207%20women%20and,injured%20by%20an%20 intimate%20 partner.

Ballard Brief by Kaitlyn Short

https://ballardbrief.byu.edu/issue-briefs/domestic-violence-against-women-in-the-united-states

U.S. Department of Justice OVW (Office on Violence Against Women)

https://www.justice.gov/file/29836/download#:~:text=What%20Is%20the%20Violence%20Against,services%20for%20 victims%20and%20 survivors. 

National Domestic Violence Hotline

https://www.thehotline.org/resources/violence-against-women-act-vawa/

Thriveworks

https://thriveworks.com/therapy/domestic-violence-therapy/#:~:text=Survivors%20often%20suffer%20from%20a,survivors%20to%20process%20their%20 experiences.

Edward R. Molari Attorney at Law

https://www.molarilaw.com/blog/video-and-audio-recordings-evidence-massachusetts-domestic-violence-trials#:~:text=The%20Basics%20of%20Wiretapping%20Laws%20in%20Massachusetts&text=This%20means%20that%20it%20is,also%20consent%20to%20being%20recorded.

Personal experience dealing with the criminal justice system from 2022-2023

Trauma and Healing: An Intersectional Analysis of Moving Past Trauma

Although the psychological frameworks tend to define trauma in general terms, the experience of trauma and the ways individuals can heal are highly influenced by the intersecting identities that include race, gender, socioeconomic status, and cultural background. Intersectional analysis enables us to go beyond the generalized conceptualization of trauma and, instead, analyzing how systems of power and inequality affect the experience of trauma and the healing process.

Intersectional Lens to Understand Trauma.

Intersectionality is a concept which was first introduced by Crenshaw (1989) and it focuses on the fact that people are subjected to overlapping systems of oppression which bring them to lived realities. Applying this framework to the context of trauma, one can conclude that in many cases, marginalized populations experience compounded types of trauma. To take an example, a woman of color might be traumatized not just by a particular event but also by the systemic racism as well as gender discrimination. These build up stressors may contribute to psychological distress and make recovery harder.

It has been shown that the marginalized communities experience a disproportionately high level of trauma exposure due to structural inequalities like poverty, violence, and low access to healthcare (SAMHSA, 2014). Thus, the trauma will never be completely comprehended without considering the wider social context within which the trauma takes place.

Obstacles to Healing in Marginalized Communities.

The process of trauma healing is commonly perceived as an individual process, but there are systematic obstacles that greatly influence the access to resources and support. Many people may not recover due to cultural stigma surrounding mental health, financial limitations and lack of culturally competent care.

Indicatively, the conventional Western therapeutic framework might not reflect cultural values or lived experiences of various people. Consequently, people might feel to be misunderstood or invalidated in the clinical setting (Bryant-Davis, 2007). Moreover, due to the presence of historical trauma, which includes colonization or slavery, communities are still affected across generations, making it even more difficult to heal (Brave Heart et al., 2011).

The course The Moving Past Trauma: Rethinking Healing.

Healing is not considered to be a recovery process of returning to normal, but rather a process of transformation that incorporates resilience, identity, and meaning-making. An intersectional approach can empower practitioners to embrace culturally responsive and inclusive traumatic informed care.

Community-based healing practices, narration, spirituality, and group support systems are likely to be the main aspects of the recovery process in most cultures. These practices question the prevalence of individualistic accounts of healing and underscore resilience of communities (Gone, 2013).

In addition, empowerment is of great importance in the healing process. The healing process can be not only personal but also political when people have an opportunity to reclaim agency and confront the oppressive regimes.

Practical implications and Future directions.

Practitioners working with trauma survivors should use an intersectional and culturally competent model to effectively support the survivors. This includes:

• Identifying systemic inequalities that are sources of trauma.
• Appreciation of different cultural practices of healing.
• Ensuring access, and inclusiveness of mental health services.
• Carrying out self-reflection in order to deal with biases in practice.

With the combination of these principles, professionals will be able to develop more just and effective methods of treating trauma.

Conclusion

An intersectional study of trauma and healing shows that recovery is not an individual process but is rooted in the social, cultural and political environment. It is not only personal resilience but also a systemic change that is required to move past the trauma. With the recognition of the multiple facets of identity and oppression, we can come up with more accommodating and empathetic approaches to recovery.

References

Brave Heart, M. Y. H., Chase, J., Elkins, J., & Altschul, D. B. (2011). Historical trauma among Indigenous peoples of the Americas: Concepts, research, and clinical considerations. Journal of Psychoactive Drugs, 43(4), 282–290. https://doi.org/10.1080/02791072.2011.628913

Bryant-Davis, T. (2007). Healing requires recognition: The case for race-based traumatic stress. The Counseling Psychologist, 35(1), 135–143. https://doi.org/10.1177/0011000006295152

Crenshaw, K. (1989). Demarginalizing the intersection of race and sex. University of Chicago Legal Forum, 1989(1), 139–167.

Gone, J. P. (2013). Redressing First Nations historical trauma: Theorizing mechanisms for Indigenous culture as mental health treatment. Transcultural Psychiatry, 50(5), 683–706. https://doi.org/10.1177/1363461513487669

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA). (2014). Trauma-informed care in behavioral health services (Treatment Improvement Protocol Series 57). U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

Strength or Silence? The Hidden Cost of Emotional Suppression in Law Enforcement

In professions that routinely encounter violence, death, and human suffering, emotional control is often viewed as a marker of strength. Nowhere is this more evident than in law enforcement and forensic investigation units, where officers are expected to maintain composure under extreme conditions. However, this cultural expectation raises an important question: What happens when emotional responses to trauma are consistently suppressed rather than processed? Drawing on trauma theory and real-world observations, this blog explores how the normalization of emotional suppression within law enforcement may contribute to unresolved trauma and long-term psychological harm.

According to Healing Trauma: A Pioneering Program for Restoring the Wisdom of Your Body, trauma is not simply the result of distressing events but rather the body’s inability to fully process and release the energy associated with those experiences. Levine emphasizes that trauma is fundamentally physiological, rooted in the nervous system’s response to perceived threat. When individuals are unable to complete natural stress responses—such as fight, flight, or freeze—the body can remain in a state of dysregulation. Over time, this can manifest as anxiety, emotional numbness, hypervigilance, or other symptoms commonly associated with trauma.

This perspective is particularly relevant in the context of law enforcement. In my own experience working within a crime scene investigation team, emotional reactions to traumatic scenes were rarely acknowledged, either formally or informally. Team members often avoided discussing emotional responses altogether, instead focusing strictly on technical and procedural tasks. In assessments and evaluations, little attention was paid to emotional well-being, as individuals appeared more concerned with demonstrating resilience and strength. There was an unspoken understanding that showing emotional impact might be interpreted as weakness or lack of professionalism.

While this approach may help officers perform effectively in the moment, it raises concerns about its long-term implications. From a trauma-informed perspective, consistently ignoring emotional responses does not eliminate them; rather, it may contribute to their accumulation within the body. Levine’s work suggests that unprocessed trauma does not simply disappear—it remains “stored” in the nervous system, potentially resurfacing in indirect ways such as burnout, irritability, or detachment. In this sense, the cultural norm of emotional suppression may paradoxically undermine the very resilience it aims to promote.

At the same time, it is important to consider alternative perspectives. The expectation of emotional control in law enforcement is not arbitrary; it serves a functional purpose. Officers must be able to operate in high-pressure environments where hesitation or emotional overwhelm could compromise safety and decision-making. From this standpoint, emotional suppression may be viewed as an adaptive strategy—one that enables individuals to fulfill their duties effectively. Additionally, not all individuals respond to trauma in the same way. Some may genuinely experience lower levels of emotional distress or may process their experiences in ways that are not immediately visible.

However, acknowledging these perspectives does not negate the potential risks associated with chronic suppression. A trauma-informed approach does not require the abandonment of professionalism or composure but rather encourages the integration of structured opportunities for processing and recovery. This could include practices such as peer support programs, routine psychological check-ins, and training that emphasizes the physiological nature of trauma. By reframing emotional responses as normal and expected rather than as signs of weakness, organizations may create environments that better support long-term well-being.

It is also important to recognize the limitations of this discussion. The observations presented here are based on personal experience within a specific context and may not be representative of all law enforcement agencies or cultural environments. Some departments have already begun implementing trauma-informed practices and mental health support systems, reflecting a growing awareness of these issues. Furthermore, the application of Levine’s framework, while widely respected, represents one of many approaches to understanding trauma. Additional research and perspectives are necessary to develop a more comprehensive understanding of how trauma manifests and can be addressed in professional settings.

Despite these limitations, the issue of emotional suppression in law enforcement warrants critical attention. As trauma research continues to evolve, it challenges long-standing assumptions about strength, resilience, and professionalism. If trauma is indeed a physiological process that requires completion and release, then ignoring emotional responses may come at a significant cost—not only to individual officers but also to the effectiveness and sustainability of the organizations they serve.

Ultimately, this raises a broader question for the field: Can true resilience exist without acknowledgment of vulnerability? Addressing this question may be essential for advancing trauma-informed practices and fostering healthier, more sustainable approaches to working in high-risk professions.

References:

Levine, P. A. (2008). Healing trauma: A pioneering program for restoring the wisdom of your body. Sounds True.

The Second Arrow: Why Self-Care Is Not a Luxury but a Trauma-Responsive Practice

We talk a lot about trauma in this field. We learn its

neurobiology (van der Kolk, 2014), its ripple effects

through generations, and how to hold space for

those who have survived the unsurvivable. But there

is one conversation we still tiptoe around: What does

it do to us?

As practitioners, we absorb stories of

violence, loss, and rupture. Over time, that

accumulation has a name: vicarious trauma-the

slow, quiet reshaping of our own worldview toward

danger and helplessness (Pearlman & Saakvitne,

1995). And if we are not careful, we begin to

experience the "second arrow."

The Buddha taught that the first arrow is the unavoidable pain of life. The second arrow is our reaction—

the self-criticism, isolation, and refusal to rest. In trauma work, the first arrow is bearing witness to

suffering. The second arrow is telling ourselves, "I should be able to handle this. I don't need a break.

Others have it worse."

This is not weakness. This is physiology.

When we repeatedly hear trauma narratives, our mirror neurons fire as if the event is happening to us

Cortisol rises. The insula-the brain region that maps our internal body state-can become

overactivated, leading to emotional exhaustion and bodily tension (Bomyea et al., 2015). Without

intentional self-care, we risk compassion fatigue: the inability to empathize or feel hope.

So I want to take a stand here: Self-care is not a spa day. It is a clinical intervention. And it must be

culturally competent.

For those of us working with marginalized communities-refugees, survivors of systemic

violence, Indigenous peoples healing from intergenerational trauma-culturally competent self-care

means rejecting the individualistic "just breathe" advice. Instead, it means asking: What does healing

look like in your community? For some, it is ceremony. For others, it is collective storytelling or land-

based practices (Gone, 2013). We must apply the same curiosity to ourselves

Proposed solution: Every trauma-focused organization should implement a "Second Arrow Check-In" at

weekly supervision. Three questions:

1. What first arrow landed for you this week (a hard story you witnessed)?
2. What second arrow did you aim at yourself (self-blame, skipped lunch, no debrief)?
3. What is one micro-practice you will use to put the second arrow down?

Micro-practices could be 90 seconds of box breathing before a session, a five-minute walk after a

disclosure, or texting a peer: "That was heavy. You okay?"

We entered this field to heal. But healing is not a finite resource. It is a practice of renewal. So here is

my inquiry to you: What second arrow are you holding today? And what would it look like to set it

down-not as an escape, but as an act of resistance against a culture that burns out its helpers?

EMDR: Make Healing an Art

Healing comes in many shapes and forms, so why not make it an art form? EMDR, or “eye movement desensitization and reprocessing,” is a form of psychotherapy where a therapist utilizes eye movement to guide patients through processing past, traumatic memories (American Psychological Association, 2023). The treatment is structured into phases, each phase broken up into a series of sessions, all done until a patients’ symptoms have been resolved (American Psychological Association, 2023). These phases include taking a history, though van der Kolk (2014) has found that taking a history is not always necessary for the EMDR process, explaining to the patient what will be occurring prior to treatment, activating a troubling memory that needs to be reprocessed, desensitizing that memory, using “bilateral stimulation” (eye movement) to guide the patient to a new way of thinking about the traumatic memory, and then bringing the session to a close in a safe and orderly way whilst making sure to re-assess the patient as they continue to progress throughout their treatment (American Psychological Association, 2023). EMDR is a process that is unique for every patient, and can evoke strong, emotional reactions, making some feel extremely distressed, emotional, and uncomfortable in some cases (American Psychological Association, 2023). But it is important to remember that EMDR is meant to evoke these emotions in order to help patients to rework their ways of thinking about the trauma that they endured.

You might ask, though, what makes EMDR art? Yes, EMDR can be quite clinical in nature, and there can be many words and research on the therapy thrown at you like “bilateral eye movement,” “psychotherapy,” and, as research has found, in one study it was found that twelve patients had a “…sharp increase in prefrontal lobe activation after treatment, as well as much more activity in the anterior cingulate and the basal ganglia” (American Psychological Association, 2023; van der Kolk, 2014). This is all incredible research and vital information, and researchers and clinicians can do so much with it, but it is not something that can easily be explained and campaigned with for patients trying to decide whether EMDR is right for them. Simply put, instead, it can be stated that EMDR is art in the form of memories.

Memories are art because they are what makes us who we are, the good and the bad. EMDR helps to loosen something up throughout its, typically, short process within our minds so that traumatic memories and experiences can be rapidly accessed and can be placed into larger perspectives, helping patients to experience them in a new way (van der Kolk, 2014). Trauma is called “trauma” for a reason, and it is not just a word to describe an experience, but it is also a word that can be used to describe the feelings and trauma responses those experiences directly invoke (van der Kolk, 2014). When we talk about these traumatic memories paired with the way EMDR works, it is vital to remember that EMDR empowers us to better learn to feel our emotions so that we can get them under control so our brain can rework itself to, eventually, “…let them [our trauma] go so that life gets lighter, so that our inside environment does not affect our outside environment, and so that our outside environment does not affect our inside environment” (Lopes, 2023).

It is a powerful reminder from TED Talk speaker Ginay Lopes that “…you are your healer” (Lopes, 2023). EMDR, simply, is the guide. One must look at one’s own experiences and know that they are in the past and that you are doing the best you can with what you know, and did know, and working hard on your healing journey to grow stronger, know better, be more empathetic towards yourself, and to find a place for forgiveness for yourself and maybe even for others (Lopes, 2023).

“There is nothing that we go through that we can’t make beautiful… [and] although art expresses healing, the healing was the art all along” (Lopes, 2023). Love your trauma, thank it for coming, but tell it that it cannot stay to harm you anymore, because you are your own healer, and you deserve to be healed.

References:

American Psychological Association. (2023, November 20). What is EMDR therapy and why is it used

           to treat PTSD? Apa.org. https://www.apa.org/topics/psychotherapy/emdr-therapy-ptsd

Lopes, G. (2023). The Art of Healing. Uri.edu; TEDxURI. https://www.uri.edu/tedx/talks/the-art-of-healing/

van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the

             Healing of Trauma. Penguin Books. https://bookshelf.vitalsource.com/books/9781101608302