CJ 720 Trauma & Crisis Intervention Blog
When the Brain Can’t Let Go: Understanding How Trauma Rewires Our Stress Response
The brain doesn’t always know the difference between what is happening right now and what happened years ago. When the nervous system has learned to fear something, it can continue to respond as though the danger is still present, even long after it has passed. This is not a character flaw. It is neuroscience.
In September 1999, Stan and Ute Lawrence were driving to a business meeting in Detroit when dense fog caused a catastrophic accident. Stan slammed on the brakes, and moments later an 18-wheeler went flying over their car. They ended up trapped in car number 13 of an 87-car pileup. Both survived, but their brains experienced the same traumatic event in very different ways. Their story, discussed in Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score, illustrates an important point: trauma does not just affect what happens to us; it can change how our brains process stress, threat, and safety (van der Kolk, 2014). Trauma can overwhelm our normal processes and affect fear responses, memory, and how we interpret our environment (Rousseau, 2026).
This topic is deeply personal as well as professional for me. Growing up working with children from kindergarten through eighth grade, I have seen how stress and trauma can affect a child’s ability to learn, trust, and behave. I have observed children whose nervous systems seemed to remain in a constant state of threat, making it difficult for them to focus on the learning and growth they needed. A child who acts out in class may have a nervous system still preparing to fight or freeze. A quiet, withdrawn child may be dissociating or protecting themselves through numbness. Understanding this changes how we view behavior. Stress responses are not necessarily failures of character; they can be evidence that someone’s brain has experienced something it struggled to process.
Stan and Ute demonstrate just how differently people can respond to the same traumatic event. When Stan relived the crash, his amygdala, which functions as part of the brain’s alarm system, became highly active (van der Kolk, 2014). His brain responded as though the danger were happening again. Ute’s response was very different. When she recalled the trauma, her mind went blank and brain activity decreased significantly. Both responses were real, and neither was a choice.
The amygdala is part of the limbic system, which includes structures such as the amygdala, hippocampus, and hypothalamus that help regulate emotions, memories, and stress responses (Rousseau, 2026). When the amygdala detects a potential threat, it can activate the fight, flight, or freeze response before the conscious mind has time to process what is happening. This can make it difficult to distinguish between an actual threat and a reminder of a previous one (Rousseau, 2026; van der Kolk, 2014). For someone like Stan, certain sounds, smells, or even the feeling of being trapped could potentially trigger a trauma response even when he consciously knows he is safe.
The hippocampus also plays an important role because it helps organize experiences and memories into a coherent narrative. Trauma and chronic stress can interfere with this process, which may help explain why people experiencing trauma sometimes have difficulty recalling the timeline of an event while remembering seemingly insignificant details, such as a song, clothing, or a particular location (Rousseau, 2026). The hypothalamus is also involved in regulating functions such as sleep, breathing, arousal, and the body's response to stress. Chronic stress can therefore affect much more than someone's emotions; it can affect the way their entire body functions (Rousseau, 2026).
Ute’s dissociation is another example of how the brain can respond to overwhelming stress. Van der Kolk (2014) describes dissociation as a central part of trauma. When stress becomes unbearable, the mind can disconnect from sensations and emotions. These responses may be protective during an immediate threat, but when they continue long after the danger has passed, they can interfere with daily life. Research also shows significant involvement of the limbic system, amygdala, and hippocampus in PTSD. At the same time, we need to be careful about what the research actually tells us. For example, researchers cannot always determine whether changes such as reduced hippocampal volume contribute to PTSD or occur as a result of it (Rousseau, 2026). Understanding trauma means recognizing what we know while also acknowledging what we still do not know.
Understanding why trauma responses occur does not excuse harmful behavior—it contextualizes it. A child who becomes aggressive because their nervous system is overwhelmed still needs boundaries and support, but understanding the underlying trauma allows us to respond with more compassion and realistic expectations. For professionals working with traumatized individuals, including social workers, teachers, police officers, probation officers, and mental health professionals, this perspective matters. Instead of only asking, “What is wrong with this person?” we can also ask, “What happened to them, and what is their behavior communicating?”
Recovery is also more complicated than simply “getting over” trauma. Van der Kolk (2014) describes recovery as a process of reintegration, while trauma-informed approaches emphasize therapy, safe relationships, mindfulness, and other practices that can help individuals regulate their stress responses. Even something as simple as deep breathing can help activate the body's calming systems and support regulation (Rousseau, 2026). Healing does not erase what happened, but it can help the brain and body learn that the danger is no longer happening.
This understanding also needs to extend to the professionals who work with trauma. We cannot pour from empty cups. We cannot remain fully present for others if our own nervous systems are constantly overwhelmed. Self-care is not a luxury when working with trauma; it is part of being able to do the work. At the same time, the responsibility cannot fall entirely on the individual. Organizations also have a responsibility to provide support through peer support, confidential mental health resources, and education about secondary traumatic stress.
Stan and Ute survived the same traumatic event, but they experienced its effects differently. Their story reminds us that there is no single way that trauma looks or affects the brain. What may look like aggression, withdrawal, poor concentration, or emotional numbness may actually be a nervous system trying to protect itself.
For me, understanding the neurobiology of trauma changes the way I look at behavior. It does not mean removing accountability or assuming that every behavior is caused by trauma. It means slowing down enough to ask what might be happening beneath the behavior. Trauma can trap people in moments their brains have not fully recognized as finished. As professionals, our job is not to erase those experiences, but to help create the safety and support necessary for people to move forward.
References
Rousseau, D. (2026). Module 3: Neurobiology of trauma [Online module]. Blackboard at Boston University.
van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
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 Link Between Vicarious Trauma and Learned Helplessness
Vicarious trauma is the costly experience of witnessing other people’s traumatic events with empathy, thus causing emotional labor and posttrauma symptoms (Moran & Asquith, 2020). Vicarious trauma can lead to depression and anxiety (Patel et al., 2026). Some other symptoms include intrusive thoughts, burnout, numbing, feeling overwhelmed, sleep difficulties, fearful feelings, losing trust in others, hypervigilance, and exhaustion (Rousseau, 2026).
Learned helplessness is a psychological condition when an individual who experienced precarious, uncomfortable, or traumatic events did not have the ability to flee the situations or put a stop to them. The individual may then develop the schema that he is helpless in face of adversity. This condition can cause a lack of motivation, emotional and cognitive harm, unhealthy external attribution, a depressogenic attribution style, extreme passivity, depression, and low self-esteem (Maier & Seligman, 2016).
Developing vicarious trauma by witnessing others’ suffering can cause neurological triggers including inflammation of prefrontal cortex, hyperactivity of HPA axis, and a breakdown of glutamate signaling. These factors can cause behavioral and physiological decline and passive dispositions that can lead to symptoms resembling depression (Patel et al., 2026).
While dealing with vicarious trauma, self-care becomes of vital importance in order to prevent more psychological duress. Self-care can induce meaningful life experiences and feelings of personal control. In order to lessen the affects of vicarious trauma, some steps that help are avoiding isolation, joining or forming a support group, practice mindfulness, journal, and seek retrospection, and increase self -awareness (Rousseau, 2026).
References
Abramson, L. Y., Seligman, M. E. P., & Teasdale, J. D. (1978). Learned helplessness in humans: Critique and reformulation. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 87(1), 49–74. https://doi.org/10.1037/0021-843X.87.1.49
Howard S. (2021). A Causal Model of Children's Vicarious Traumatization. Journal of child & adolescent trauma, 14(4), 443–454. https://doi.org/10.1007/s40653-020-00331-z
Maier, S. F., & Seligman, M. E. (2016). Learned helplessness at fifty: Insights from neuroscience. Psychological review, 123(4), 349–367. https://doi.org/10.1037/rev0000033
Moran, R. J., & Asquith, N. L. (2020). Understanding the vicarious trauma and emotional labour of criminological research. Methodological Innovations, 13(2). https://doi.org/10.1177/2059799120926085.
Patel S, Kushwaha R, Sinha D, Soren K, Kumar A and Chakravarty S (2026) Vicarious learned helplessness: a translationally relevant novel model of stress contagion elucidating sex-dependent prefrontal cortex pathology. Front. Behav. Neurosci. 20:1788847. doi: 10.3389/fnbeh.2026.1788847
Rousseau, D. 2026. Module 1.3. Vicarious Trauma. Learning Module. Boston University.
Running Down the Trauma

There are many ways for someone to exercise their body and mind while dealing with trauma. While some choose to do yoga, meditate, or strength training, others choose to go running to clear their mind. Running allows an individual an escape from any negative stress and anxiety that could be going through their head throughout the day. While running you allow yourself to regain control of your mental state in various ways similar to yoga and meditation. This includes regulating your breathing to help lower stress hormones by setting the pace that's comfortable for you, deciding how far you want to go for distance, and if you need to stop to catch your breath or stretch. Running not only allows you to be in control of your physical movements, but it also allows you to mentally heal. As one article explains, “Research has started to demonstrate that aerobic exercise not only increases levels of serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine, which are important neurotransmitters involved in thoughts and emotions, but that it may also combat the effects of stress and anxiety on the brain.” (Anderson, 2016.)
I have been running for more than half my life, whether it be 3 miles or 10 miles I always find myself re-focusing when I'm running. The idea of constantly moving progressively faster each step and improving your speed and distance threshold are goals that bring a ton of mental satisfaction. Running has also created more healthy habits such as keeping up with a healthy diet, being active, and creating friendly social bonds with other who enjoy running culture and help one another to achieve your goals. All of these bring a healthy mindset and allow you to heal from trauma. That being said running is a challenge and is not for everyone. Other methods that are slower pace such as yoga and meditation are great options as well if you decide running isn't for you. All of these are great active options to help one heal as opposed to the reliance on medication.
References
Running Through Trauma | Psychology Today 2016 Katrina Anderson
Rethinking How We Work With Justice-Impacted Youth
When working with justice-impacted youth, I think it is important to look beyond the behavior and consider what may have happened to the young person. A youth may be labeled as aggressive, defiant, or disrespectful without anyone asking what experiences may have contributed to those behaviors. Trauma-informed practice encourages us to ask not only, “What did this young person do?” but also, “What happened to this young person?”
One recommendation for better integrating trauma-informed practice into juvenile justice is providing mandatory trauma-informed training for everyone who works with youth, including law enforcement officers, probation officers, judges, detention staff, and counselors. When professionals understand how trauma can influence behavior, they may be better equipped to respond with de-escalation, consistency, and empathy instead of relying solely on punishment. This does not mean eliminating accountability. Rather, accountability can be more effective when youth are also given the support and skills they need to understand and change their behavior.
Another important recommendation is implementing trauma screening as early as possible. Ford et al. (2007) found that trauma exposure is extremely common among youth involved in the juvenile justice system, yet many young people are never identified or connected with appropriate treatment. Early screening can help professionals recognize trauma-related needs and prevent symptoms from being mistaken for simple misconduct. However, screening should lead to actual services, including evidence-based trauma treatment and other appropriate mental health support.
The documentary Juvenile: Five Stories provides a real-world example of why this approach is necessary. The youth featured in the film experienced abuse, sexual assault, unstable homes, and other traumatic circumstances before or during their involvement with the juvenile justice system. Shimaine's story particularly stood out to me because after experiencing sexual abuse by her stepfather, she was not believed by her mother and was eventually detained because there was nowhere else for her to go. Her experience raises an important question: What might have happened differently if her trauma and need for safety had been recognized earlier?
The film also demonstrates why rehabilitation should involve more than punishment or individual counseling. When appropriate, youth may need family support, mentoring, educational assistance, restorative justice opportunities, and access to mental health and medical services. van der Kolk (2014) emphasizes the importance of safety, supportive relationships, and regaining a sense of control in the healing process. Creating predictable environments where youth feel respected and heard can help them develop healthier coping skills and make better decisions.
Ultimately, trauma-informed juvenile justice requires a shift in mindset. Understanding a young person's trauma does not excuse harmful behavior or remove responsibility. Instead, it provides context that can help professionals respond more effectively. If the goal of juvenile justice is rehabilitation, then youth need more than consequences. They need opportunities to heal, develop healthy coping skills, build supportive relationships, and create a different future. By combining accountability with compassion, early intervention, and trauma-informed care, the juvenile justice system can move beyond simply responding to youth behavior and begin addressing the experiences that may have contributed to it.
References:
Ford, J. D., Chapman, J. F., Hawke, J., & Albert, D. (2007). Trauma among youth in the juvenile justice system: Critical issues and new directions. National Center for Mental Health and Juvenile Justice.
Selvidge, J. S., & Fleming, S. (Directors). (2023). Juvenile: Five stories [Film]. New Day Films.
van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma.
Some Cases Follow You Home

Some cases end when the report is completed. Others do not.
For professionals who work around trauma, there are cases that stay in your mind long after the workday is over. It might be something a child said during an interview, the details of a difficult case, or simply wondering what will happen to that person after your role in the case has ended. You can leave the office, but sometimes your mind does not leave the case as easily.
Before studying trauma more deeply, I think it was easy to assume that trauma mainly affects the person who directly experienced the event. Throughout this course, however, I began thinking more about the people who repeatedly listen to traumatic experiences as part of their profession. Police officers, child protection professionals, social workers, emergency responders, and others may spend their careers helping people through some of the most difficult moments of their lives. They are trained to remain professional, make decisions, and continue to the next case. But being professional does not mean being unaffected.
One concept that stood out to me in this course was secondary traumatic stress. The National Child Traumatic Stress Network (NCTSN, 2022) explains that professionals can experience emotional distress from indirect exposure to the traumatic experiences of others. This is particularly relevant in professions where listening to detailed accounts of abuse, violence, loss, and fear is not unusual but part of everyday work.
I think what makes this type of stress difficult is that the effect may not always be obvious. A professional does not necessarily finish a difficult interview and immediately recognize, “This case affected me.” Instead, the impact can be quieter. A person may continue thinking about the case at home, become emotionally exhausted, have difficulty separating work from personal life, or gradually become more guarded about the world around them. Bride (2007) found substantial levels of secondary traumatic stress symptoms among social workers, demonstrating that professionals who work with traumatized populations can themselves experience trauma-related symptoms.
What interests me most is not only what professionals experience at work, but what they may carry away from it. Someone who repeatedly encounters child abuse, for example, may begin noticing possible risks in situations that other people would consider ordinary. A police officer repeatedly exposed to violence may find that remaining alert does not automatically end when the shift does. In some ways, professional experience teaches us to notice things that other people may overlook. That awareness can be valuable in our work, but constantly viewing the world through the possibility of harm can also have a cost.
This changed one assumption for me. Being affected by a case does not necessarily mean that someone is unable to do the job. Sometimes it may simply mean that the person has been doing emotionally demanding work for a long time without enough opportunity to process what they have been carrying. Van der Kolk (2014) explains throughout The Body Keeps the Score how traumatic stress can affect the way people experience safety, emotions, and their surroundings. Although his work primarily focuses on people who have directly experienced trauma, it also made me think more deeply about how repeated exposure to the trauma of others can influence professionals over time.
There is an understandable expectation in criminal justice that professionals remain calm and objective. We need that. Decisions involving victims, children, families, and offenders cannot be based only on emotion. But I do not think professionalism should require becoming emotionally detached from everything we see. Empathy is part of what allows professionals to listen carefully, understand what someone is experiencing, and recognize when that person needs help. The challenge is learning how to care without carrying every case personally.
This is also why I no longer see self-care as something extra that professionals should think about only when they have time. Sometimes recovery can be as simple as taking a real day away from work, disconnecting when possible, spending time with family, resting, or recognizing when you need support. At the same time, the responsibility cannot fall entirely on the individual. Organizations that ask employees to work around trauma also have a responsibility to support them. Peer support, confidential mental health resources, supportive supervision, and education about secondary traumatic stress can help professionals recognize the impact of their work before they reach a crisis. The NCTSN (2022) similarly emphasizes both individual and organizational approaches to addressing secondary traumatic stress.
People working in trauma-exposed professions are often told to “leave work at work.” It sounds simple, but I have come to realize that it is not always realistic. Maybe the goal is not to forget every difficult case at the end of the day. Some cases stay with us because we are human enough to care about what happens to the people we serve. The more important skill may be learning to recognize when remembering becomes carrying, and when carrying becomes too heavy.
This course has changed the way I think about trauma because I no longer see its impact as limited only to the person at the center of an incident. Trauma can affect families, communities, and sometimes the professionals who repeatedly step into other people’s worst moments to help them.
Some cases will follow us home. The important question is whether we recognize what we are carrying—and whether the systems designed to help others are also willing to support the people doing the helping.
References
Bride, B. E. (2007). Prevalence of secondary traumatic stress among social workers. Social Work, 52(1), 63–70. https://doi.org/10.1093/sw/52.1.63
National Child Traumatic Stress Network. (2022). Secondary traumatic stress: Understanding the impact on professionals in trauma-exposed workplaces.
Van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
The Guatemalan Civil War and the Lasting Impact of Trauma
In the 36-year Guatemalan Civil War (1960–1996), state violence peaked between 1981 and 1983. During this period, state forces executed systematic killings under the doctrine that Indigenous communities were aiding leftist guerrillas. Over 200,000 people were killed or disappeared, with more than 80% of the victims being unarmed Indigenous Maya civilians, and over 600 villages were completely destroyed. In 1999, the United Nations officially designated these acts as genocide, stating that state government forces deliberately sought the destruction of specific Maya ethnic groups through mass executions, displacement, systematic sexual violence, and the destruction of cultural identity.
Systemic political corruption severely strains public health delivery in post-conflict regions. The rising establishment of governance of street gangs also increases instability in cities. Because of this, frontline clinicians and health care workers are operating under constant security threats and serving patients living in deep fear of state or gang retaliation. To understand these clinical challenges, health policy must account for the historical genocide that transformed the socio-political landscape. However, research on conflict-affected populations demonstrates that trauma recovery cannot be handled with clinical management alone. Real healing happens when care directly counters cultural erasure and institutional challenges. When public and government systems fail, practitioners can tap into resilient resources such as cultural pride and ancestral identity. I believe there is a way that practitioners can integrate cultural identity into daily practice and turn their aid into acts of empowerment despite institutional barriers.
Building an effective trauma-informed care framework requires moving beyond traditional Western approaches with ideas of trauma being strictly one dimensional as an individual illness. Demographic research in post-conflict communities has found that mass violence functions as a structural shock across family trees, creating a "kinship multiplier" effect where trauma ripples across generations and preserves a collective demographic memory of loss (Alburez-Gutierrez, 2021). At the population level, assessments confirm that historical war exposure significantly increases long-term risks for post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, and severe alcohol dependence (Puac-Polanco et al., 2015). In these contexts, silence often serves as a coping strategy. Additionally, cultural and human rights activists have found that severe trauma frequently overwhelms spoken language (Schauwecker, 2018). When government systems fail to deliver justice, creative expression becomes vital vehicles for processing collective grief, as well as demanding accountability outside traditional institutional walls.
Practitioners cannot fix large scale politics, but they can alter the clinical techniques by shifting from individual diagnoses to dignity, cultural pride, and personal agency through several avenues:
1. Reclaiming Culture and Reframing Trauma as Resilience: Decades of marginalization, displacement, and gang violence have severed many survivors from their native languages, traditions, and ancestral pride. Clinicians can actively integrate local cultural concepts during intake. Language retention, traditional art, and ancestral practices should be explicitly celebrated as living acts of strength and survival rather than outdated customs. Additionally, western labels can deepen feelings of helplessness in populations already marginalized by corrupt state structures. Practitioners should reframe clinical symptoms as protective strategies that enable patients and their families to navigate danger. Highlighting how patients maintain dignity and care for others shifts the focus toward post-traumatic growth.
3. Confidentiality: Patients may fear that coming to professionals can expose their families to gang extortion or state surveillance. Clinicians should adopt minimalist, non-stigmatizing documentation. Giving patients transparent control over their records reassures them that personal histories will not be identifiable.
4. Partnering with Quiet but Foundational Community Members: Patients often cannot cross gang territories to reach facilities, along with public clinics lacking specialized mental health staff. Practitioners can establish trusted, informal referral networks with local midwives, elders, and spiritual guides within the patient’s neighborhood. Establishing peer-led support circles in neutral local spaces allows collective processing and shared heritage to replace isolation.
5. Holistic, Ritual-Based Care without Medications: Since essential medications are frequently out of stock due to health ministry corruption, and brief appointments prevent long sessions. Clinicians should teach rapid, body-based regulation techniques that patients can use independently during acute stress. Additionally, clinicians should validate traditional community rituals that support emotional balance without reliance on broken pharmaceutical supply chains.
When health systems are crippled by state corruption, governmental instability, and gang violence, frontline practitioners cannot rely on traditional Western psychiatric frameworks or state resources alone. Ultimately, when large institutions fail, practitioners can become a vital part of resistance. By prioritizing privacy-first practices, rapid somatic tools, partnership with local community members, and the active empowerment of cultural heritage, professionals can restore agency and dignity to survivors, ensuring that healing remains an attainable right even amid instability. It is also critical in promoting the longevity of a culture that was deeply uprooted due to state-issued violence.
I first learned about this after reading a forensic anthropology book about experts in the field exhuming clandestine graves from the genocide. I was very moved about the history of the civil war, collective grief of survivors, the Indigenous culture of the Maya citizens, as well as the silent history of his tragedy. Learning about this genocide opened by eyes to the complexity of trauma and violence against targeted groups. Doing my due diligence to educate myself on the good as well as the dark history of civilizations helps me stay attune to the global experience of trauma but also to ensures that I know of people’s histories and to not let perpetrators succeed erasing the history of others. Forgetting is a long-term goal of those who carry out these violent acts, and knowing about these events is a form of empowerment for victims, survivors, and practitioners to keep cultural identity and pride alive.
References:
Alburez-Gutierrez, D. (2021). The demographic grief and memory after geniuses in Guatemala. Demography, 58(4), 1215–1239. DOI:10.4054/MPIDR-WP-2021-003
Branas CC, Dinardo AR, Puac Polanco VD, Harvey MJ, Vassy JL, Bream K. (2013). An exploration of violence, mental health and substance abuse in post-conflict Guatemala. Health (Irvine Calif). DOI: 10.4236/health.2013.55109.
Puac-Polanco VD, Lopez-Soto VA, Kohn R, Xie D, Richmond TS, Branas CC. Previous violent events and mental health outcomes in Guatemala. Am J Public Health. 2015 Apr;105(4):764-71. doi: 10.2105/AJPH.2014.302328. Epub 2015 Feb 25. PMID: 25713973; PMCID: PMC4358168.
Schauwecker, Lacey M. (2018) "“You Could See Rage”: Visual Testimony in Post-Genocide Guatemala. Genocide Studies and Prevention: An International Journal : Vol. 12: Iss. 2: 18-34. DOI:https://doi.org/10.5038/1911-9933.12.2.1529
Critical Incident Stress Management
Trauma affects everyone differently, and trauma can have serious implications for those who experience it. Police officers are subjected to higher rates of critical incidents than the overall public. This results in 15%-35% of officers having PTSD or post-traumatic stress disorder compared to only 6% of the general population (NeuroLaunch editorial team, 2024).
Police departments across the United States have searched for answers to this predicament. While there is not much departments can do to limit the exposure to critical incidents, stress, and trauma the officers face, they can control how they deal with the trauma. A model being used for officers to deal with traumatic events is CISM, or Critical Incident Stress Management. CISM is a structured process where officers who witnessed the event are brought together to share their experiences and vent emotions. and learn about the reactions to the stress they are facing (Rosseau, 2026). This can be done immediately after a critical incident, a few days later, or both.
CISM is used in a group setting where officers can support and be supported by one another. There are four tools that are used in group CISM. The first is demobilization. That is a one-time group information process directly after the incident. The second is Crisis Management Briefings. This is a structured meeting style that focuses on the community aspect of organizational groups. This is meant to provide information about the incident, control rumors, and educate those involved on additional resources if they are needed. The third is Defusing. This is a shortened version of debriefing that is used for small groups within 8 hours of the event. The last is debriefing. That is a large group discussion about the events that took place. These tools are used together to help officers not feel alone and show them they are supported. Instead of isolation and overthinking, CISM sets out to show the officers they are not the only ones dealing with issues after a critical incident (Chapter 4 CRITICAL INCIDENT STRESS DEBRIEFING (Powerful Event Group Support), n.d.)
There is no one answer to mental health, and specifically the response to a traumatic incident. CISM was designed and integrated with different steps and different approaches to provide support. There is a clear issue with officers having a high suicide rate, and PTSD diagnosis. CISM set out to confront these issues and is being adopted by more and more departments. There has been a long history of mental health stigmas in law enforcement. By using group techniques and having the actual officers involved providing the support to and from each other, progress will continue to be made.
References:
Chapter 4 CRITICAL INCIDENT STRESS DEBRIEFING (Powerful Event Group Support). (n.d.). Retrieved August 10, 2026, from https://www.nzsar.govt.nz/assets/Downloadable-Files/Critical-Incident-Stress-Debriefing.pdf
Expansion Beyond Expectation: Examining Trauma Through the Lens of Gender Normative Ideologies
Expansion Beyond Expectation: Examining Trauma Through the Lens of Gender Normative Ideologies
Gender normative ideologies have largely dictated our perceptions and actions within society. While the display of these norms has transformed over time, there has been a consistent desire to set hierarchical expectations to which individuals should strive to conform. When our construction of these expectations intersects with life events, such as trauma, we begin to see how both are connected in shaping what post-traumatic reactions can look like. In considering the ways gender normatives can serve as an authoritative presence that can dictate human behavior, I’d like to briefly examine the relationship between gender norms and how individuals experience and process trauma. Utilizing information from the course Trauma and Crisis Intervention, along with gender normative critique from Huzaifa Awan’s article, Trauma and Gender: How PTSD Shows Up Differently in Men, Women, and Non-Binary Folks, we can see how the intersection of trauma and gender showcases itself in the multi-sensory perception of trauma and how we believe we should respond to it.
Gender normative ideologies and trauma intersect, impacting our perception of the physical and emotional impact of trauma. Huzaifa gives an example of this multi-sensory experience through the lens of gender-affirming therapy, articulating that through this experience, one's relationship with gender converges with physical and psychological post-traumatic reactions. Huzaifa states that “Stress biology and identity cross in complex ways for non-binary people, especially those receiving gender-affirming hormone therapy. Hormonal changes do not cause trauma reactions, but they can affect how mood is regulated. Instead, trauma is linked to years of social invalidation and frequently precedes medical transformation.” (Huzaifa, 2026) The perception of these stress-inducing physical changes throughout the body, coupled with the fears of social invalidation showcase how one's relationship with gender and traumas can be shaped intersectionally.
Gender normative ideologies also intersect with trauma in relation to how an individual feels they may respond. Within dynamics such as the nuclear family ideology post-World War II, we see how gendered expectations set clear divisions for who is socially pressured to maintain an appearance of stoicism and suppression. For example, In Module 4.1 of our course, Trauma and Crisis Intervention, Dr. Rousseau gives the example of World War II veterans who feared the perceptions of society while navigating their PTSD symptoms stating, "Symptoms were beginning to develop in some soldiers as late as 30 months after returning from combat and included 'guilt, alienation, psychic numbing, and rage.” (Rousseau, 2026, Module 4.1) Fear of being ostracized via displaying vulnerability culminated in veterans suppressing their need for care. Within the latency of this suppression, we see how gender norms can culminate in trauma and become the catalyst for proceeding social structures.
By acknowledging the ways that gender norms impact our experiences with trauma, we can begin to develop more progressive support strategies. In my undergraduate program at Bates College, I had the opportunity to hear accounts of trauma through intersectional lenses of identity such as gender, sexuality, race, and disability. Trauma can become formative pieces of our lives, making a multi-faceted view of identity within those experiences even more important. While gender norms have made seeking out necessary care difficult, looking beyond patriarchal definitions of authority and reclaiming autonomy can be done through collaborative conversation. I encourage others to let normative ideologies be a frame of reflection rather than a definition.
References:
Rousseau D(2026) MET CJ 720, Module 4-Neurobiology of Trauma, Lesson 4.1. History of Treatment, Blackboard Ultra, Boston University
Awan, H. (2026), Trauma and Gender: How PTSD Shows Up Differently in Men, Women, and Non-Binary Folks, Medium, BeOpen Writers and Reader Publication, https://medium.com/be-open/trauma-and-gender-how-ptsd-shows-up-differently-in-men-women-and-non-binary-folks-d1f7b3bc65a5
Could I Have Become One of Them? What Ordinary Men Taught Me About Human Behavior

One of the most unsettling lessons I have learned in the Trauma and Crisis Intervention course is that acts of pure evil and malice are not always committed by malevolent people. Before reading Christopher Browning’s Ordinary Men, I found it easy to believe that the perpetrators of the Holocaust were fundamentally different from others, that they were uniquely cruel or inherently evil. Browning’s historical analysis challenged that assumption by presenting Reserve Police Battalion 101 as a group of ordinary, middle-aged German men who gradually became active participants in mass murder. Rather than leaving me with simple answers, the book forced me to ask an uncomfortable question: could ordinary people –including myself– be influenced by similar social pressures under different circumstances?
The social psychology research we explored in Module 5 helps explain why Browning’s conclusions are unsettling. Stanley Milgram demonstrated that many people are willing to obey authority figures, even when those orders conflict with their own morality. Philip Zimbardo’s Stanford Prison Experiment further demonstrates how quickly typical people can internalize social roles and adapt their behavior to fit the expectations of a situation. Browning argues that Zimbardo’s findings are especially relevant because the men of Reserve Police Battalion 101 were not simply following direct orders. Many individuals gradually adapted to their roles as they became desensitized to violence, even volunteering for more violent tasks. The transformation was not immediate; it occurred through conformity, peer influence, and the normalization of cruelty rather than just unquestioned obedience.
While reading these works, I had found myself thinking about Marina Abramovic’s 1974 performance, Rhythm 0. During the performance, Abramovic stood motionless for six hours while audience members were told they could use any of seventy-two objects on her however they wished with no consequence. What started with harmless interactions gradually escalated into physical violence, as participants observed others crossing the line of morality. By the end of the performance, audience members had cut her clothing, damaged her skin, and even held a loaded gun to her head. Although Rhythm 0 is not comparable to the Holocaust in scale, intent, historical context, or severity it demonstrates a similar psychological phenomenon: when accountability is diminished and harmful behavior becomes normalized within a group, ordinary people may begin acting in ways they never imagined possible.
What connects Browning, Milgram, Zimbardo, and Abramovic is not the claim that people are intrinsically evil. Instead, they collectively suggest that human behavior is profoundly influenced by social environments, authority, group norms, and perceived responsibility. This realization is unnerving because it shifts the conversation away from identifying “bad people” and toward recognizing the conditions that allow harmful behavior to emerge. At the same time, these works also remind us that some individuals resisted. A small number of Battalion 101 members refused to participate in the Jozefow massacre despite the social pressure surrounding them. Their actions indicate that situational influences are powerful but not absolute.
As someone pursuing a career in psychology and criminal justice, I believe this may be one of the most important lessons of the course. Understanding how ordinary people became capable of devastating harm is not about excusing these perpetrators, but about recognizing warning signs before they escalate into violence. It also highlights the important of cultivating moral courage. The willingness to question authority, resist harmful group norms, and recognize the humanity in others even when doing so is difficult. If we continue believing that atrocities are committed only be people fundamentally different from ourselves, we risk overlooking the social conditions that make such atrocities possible. In that sense, Browning’s Ordinary Men is not only a history of the Holocaust but a warning about the potential that exists within every society and within every one of us.
References:
Abramović, M. (1974). Rhythm 0 [Performance].
Browning, C. R. (1992). Ordinary men: Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final Solution in Poland. HarperCollins.
Milgram, S. (1963). Behavioral study of obedience. Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 67(4), 371–378. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0040525
Zimbardo, P. G. (2007). The Lucifer effect: Understanding how good people turn evil. Random House