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Behind The Helping Role: Acknowledging Vicarious Trauma and Prioritizing Self-Care
Throughout this course, I have found myself thinking about how I could expand my idea of trauma, specifically when working with children in the hospital. I am currently studying to become a Certified Child Life Specialist (CCLS), someone who supports children and their families throughout their hospitalization, and I hoped to learn more about how to treat or work with someone with trauma, but throughout this course, I have realized that trauma does not only apply to the patients I work with, but also to their care team as well. CCLS helps children understand their hospitalization, develop coping strategies, support children through procedures, support developmental milestones, support siblings, and support families through bereavement. While every hospitalization is different, and every child and family is different, CCLS often supports children and families through traumatic events.
As someone studying to be a CCLS who is particularly interested in working in an intensive care unit or emergency department, I find myself often asking other CCLS’s how they deal with dealing with emotional toll of supporting children through their hospitalization. While everyone’s approach is different, the common theme I have found CCLSs advise me on is ensuring I prioritize self-care, mental health, and recognize the impact of vicarious trauma in order to prevent burnout. Part of supporting children and families in the hospital is trying to see things from their perspective and being mindful of previous experiences they may have had that influence their current hospitalization. Trying to see things from the eyes of someone who has or is experiencing a trauma can be emotionally taxing on people.
Witnessing trauma can be difficult, especially if you are a witness to it every day, which can lead individuals to experience vicarious trauma (Rousseau, 2026). According to Perlman & Mac Ian (1995), vicarious trauma is the transformation that occurs due to empathic engagement with another person’s trauma experiences. While people often think of trauma workers as law enforcement workers or therapists, CCLS work alongside patients in the hospital, often being exposed to the trauma the child is enduring. Some hospital visits may be routine, while others may be due to an emergency. Regardless, hospital visits can be traumatizing for children, whether they have been to the hospital multiple times before or if it is their first admission.
Supporting children who are in pain, sick, or upset, as well as potentially distressed families, can be emotionally taxing. Since our role as CCLS is to listen, support, and try to understand our patients and families, it can be easy to allow the amount of empathetic engagement to take a toll on mental health. While it can feel amazing to help support a child and their family in the hospital, it can also be distressing to be surrounded by such intense negative emotions, such as pain or sadness, day after day. In departments like an intensive care unit or emergency department, CCLS are exposed to difficult and traumatic cases daily. This day-to-day exposure can lead to CCLS experiencing symptoms of vicarious trauma.
Some symptoms of vicarious trauma are behavioral changes in relation to work responsibilities, burnout, withdrawal, denial, PTSD symptoms, difficulty sleeping, exhaustion, nausea, headaches, and impaired self-care (Rousseau). As vicarious trauma can be common in those who work in the hospital, prioritizing self-care and mental health is crucial. Establishing a self-care routine can help develop a routine of acknowledging the trauma we witness, processing the emotions and experiences we have, and acknowledging the importance of mental health. Self-care is something enjoyable that allows us to engage in activities that help our mind, body, and soul, allowing us to take a step back and reset. While self-care cannot ensure that burnout will not happen, nor will those who engage in consistent self-care routines not be impacted by vicarious trauma, it can help one develop a way to “reset” themselves and distance others’ experiences from their own.
This course has allowed me to learn more about the impact trauma has on individuals, as well as acknowledge the exposure to potential vicarious trauma in my own field. Understanding how trauma influences people and the importance of learning how to work with those who have experienced trauma has allowed me to gain a better understanding of how to support patients and their families in the hospital. Additionally, I have found myself focusing on my own mental health and self-care activities to develop a sense of routine so that when I become a CCLS, I will already have developed a habit of prioritizing my mental and physical health.
References:
Pearlman, L. A., & Mac Ian, P. S. (1995). Vicarious traumatization: An empirical study of the effects of trauma work on trauma therapists. Professional Psychology: Research and Practice, 26(6), 558–565. https://doi.org/10.1037/0735-7028.26.6.558
Rousseau, D.(2026). MET CJ720-Module 1: Introduction to Trauma-Vicarious Trauma and Self-Care[Online Module] , Blackboard, Boston University
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
Children Serve a Sentence Too: The Hidden Trauma of Parental Incarceration
When a parent is incarcerated, the sentence is handed down to one person but the impact rarely stops there. Children are left trying to make sense of a sudden absence while navigating changes in their home, routines, relationships and sometimes even their caregivers. In many ways children of incarcerated parents serve a sentence alongside their parent, one that is marked by confusion, instability and emotional disruption.
This topic is deeply personal as well as professional for me. I experienced my father’s incarceration as a child, along with involvement in the child welfare system and the instability that followed. At the time, I didn’t have the language to describe what I was going through. Looking back now as an educated adult, social worker and mother I can see how profoundly a parent’s incarceration shapes a child’s sense of safety and predictability. My professional work with children and families and not incarcerated individuals has pushed me to understand parental incarceration from both sides. I recognize the importance of accountability, but I also know firsthand that the consequences extend far beyond the person who committed the crime.
One theme that stood out through the course with Dr. Rousseau is how dependent children are on the adults around them for stability. Our course material emphasizes that safety, adequate care, love, acceptance and dependable adults support healthy development, while separation, rejection, abuse and neglect can interfere with trust, emotional regulation, frustration tolerance and relationships (Rousseau, 2026). Van der Kolk (2015) similarly explains that children depend on their caregivers not only for physical needs but also to help them feel safe and regulate their emotions. When that sense of safety is disrupted, the effects can extend into how children respond to stress, relationships and their environment.
When a parent is incarcerated children often lose one of their primary sources of stability. Even when their home situation before incarceration was complicated, the sudden separation can still create feelings of loss, uncertainty and fear. Van der Kolk (2015) discusses how traumatic experiences can leave the nervous system prepared for danger even after the immediate threat has passed. For children this may show up in ways that adults so not immediately recognize as trauma. Children also express trauma differently than adults. The childhood trauma material identifies anger, withdrawal, difficulty concentrating, nightmares and acting out as possible signs of traumatic stress (Rousseau, 2026). As a social worker this matters because adults often focus on a child’s behavior without asking what the behavior is communicating. A child who suddenly struggles in school or begins acting out after a parent’s incarceration may not be “misbehaving”. They may be expressing fear, grief or confusion in the only way they know how.
Our lecture material has highlighted that children are particularly vulnerable to trauma because of their age and dependence on adults (Rousseau, 2026). This is why I believe the correctional systems need to think more intentionally about children when working with incarcerated parents. When it is safe and appropriate, maintaining healthy family connections through visitation, phone calls (which are now free in Massachusetts), letters, parenting programs and other forms of communication should be considered part of rehabilitation, not an optional privilege. Van der Kolk (2015) repeatedly emphasizes the importance of safe and supportive relationships in recovering from trauma. For children of incarcerated parents maintaining an appropriate connection with a parent may help preserve a sense of attachment and remind the child that the relationship has not completely disappeared. Supporting the parent-child relationships can reduce trauma, strengthen family bonds and improve reentry outcomes.
Reentry itself is another critical point. A parent’s release does not automatically repair the relationship. Children have continued growing, routines have changed and feelings surrounding the parent’s absence may still be present. Reunification requires support, patience and intentional planning. Incorporating family focused reentry strategies acknowledges that incarceration disrupts entire family systems not just individuals. Trauma-informed care teaches us to move beyond asking what is wrong with someone and instead consider what happened to them, what their behavior may be communicating and what support may have been missing. I believe we need to extend the same thinking to the children of incarcerated parents. Their experiences are often overlooked, yet they carry emotional burdens that can shape their development for years. If we want to interrupt cycles of trauma and incarceration we cannot focus solely on the person behind the walls. We must also pay attention to the children waiting on the other side.
References:
Rousseau, D. (2026). Module Two: Childhood Trauma [Lecture notes]. Boston University Metropolitan College.
van der Kolk, B. (2015). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Penguin Books.
Self-Care is a Necessity: Why Criminal Justice Professionals Need to Recover
When I first began learning about trauma in the criminal justice system, I primarily associated trauma with victims. However, the course Trauma and Crisis Intervention has challenged me to recognize that trauma can affect nearly everyone who interacts with the criminal justice system, including law enforcement officers, veterans, incarcerated individuals, victims, and the professionals responsible for providing support. This realization has changed the way I think about self-care. I no longer see it simply as something people do when they are stressed or need a break. Instead, I believe self-care and recovery are essential components of remaining healthy and effective in a profession that routinely exposes individuals to trauma.
Professionals in criminal justice and related helping professions are regularly exposed to difficult situations, traumatic stories, violence, and the consequences of other people’s experiences. Repeated exposure to these circumstances can affect an individual’s psychological and physical well-being. One example discussed in our course is Critical Incident Stress Management (CISM). CISM provides interventions intended to help individuals manage the emotional and psychological effects that can follow critical incidents, including opportunities to process and respond to stressful experiences (Health Assured, n.d.). For criminal justice professionals who routinely respond to traumatic incidents, these types of interventions can provide an important opportunity to begin recovering rather than allowing the effects of an incident to accumulate over time. The need for these interventions become particularly concerning when considering the mental health challenges faced by law enforcement officers. Police officers regularly encounter violence, death, accidents, victims, and other highly stressful situations. Research by Maguen et al. (2009) found that routine work environment stress was associated with PTSD symptoms among police officers. This finding is important because it demonstrates that the effects of occupational stress are not limited to extraordinary or isolated critical incidents. The everyday pressures associated with police work can also contribute to psychological distress. The issue becomes even more concerning when considering police suicide. Kulbarsh (2016) reported on police suicide statistics and highlighted the seriousness of suicide within the profession. Together, these concerns demonstrate why officer wellness and mental health support deserve greater attention.
What stands out to me about CISM and the discussion of officer wellness is that they challenge the idea that professionals are immune to trauma simply because they are professionals. There can sometimes be an expectation that people working in criminal justice should be able to handle difficult situations because responding to those situations is part of their job. However, repeated exposure to traumatic events does not make someone immune to their psychological effects. As discussed in the course Trauma and Crisis Intervention, professionals can experience the consequences of repeated stress and trauma just as the individuals they serve can (Rousseau, 2026). If anything, the repeated nature of this exposure makes purposeful recovery even more important. This idea extends beyond law enforcement. My understanding of trauma has expanded to include the experiences of military veterans and incarcerated individuals as well. Many veterans experience PTSD, traumatic brain injuries, or substance use disorders after deployment, and veterans treatment courts demonstrate how trauma-informed approaches can address underlying issues while still holding individuals accountable (Rousseau, 2026). Similarly, our discussion of incarceration introduced me to the concept of institutionalization and the psychological effects associated with prolonged isolation. These examples show that trauma-informed care cannot be limited to one point in the criminal justice process. It must follow individuals throughout the system.
I was particularly interested in our discussion of restorative justice because it demonstrates that accountability and healing do not necessarily have to be competing goals. Restorative justice focuses on repairing harm by involving victims, offenders, and communities in the justice process. Rather than relying exclusively on punishment, this approach creates opportunities for accountability, rehabilitation, and healing (Rousseau, 2026). This made me think about how the same philosophy can apply to professionals. If we expect criminal justice professionals to help others recover from trauma, we should also create environments where those professionals have opportunities to recover themselves. One of the most meaningful examples from the course was learning about Angela Davis and how she began practicing yoga while incarcerated. She later described yoga as an important part of her self-care and healing after her release (Rousseau, 2026). I found this particularly intriguing because it demonstrated that self-care does not necessarily require ideal circumstances. Even in an environment characterized by confinement and limited control, Davis found a practice that helped her reconnect with herself. Her experience challenged my perception of what self-care has to look like. It does not always require significant amounts of time, money, or access to specialized resources. Sometimes it can be something as simple as creating a moment to breathe, move, reflect, or reconnect with yourself. This connects with Dr. Rousseau’s reminder that self-care does not have to be expensive (Rousseau, 2026).
Social media often presents self-care as expensive skincare products, spa days, vacations, fitness classes, or other forms of consumption. While those activities can certainly be enjoyable, they are not requirements for maintaining our well-being. A walk in the morning or evening, journaling, listening to music, watching a movie, spending time with people we love, or simply allowing ourselves to rest can all be meaningful forms of recovery. Personally, this is something I have had to become more intentional about as I balance graduate school and studying for the LSAT, while preparing for my future career in law and criminal justice. I tend to feel like there is always something else I should be accomplishing. When I am not studying, I feel like I should be working. When I am not working, I feel like I should be preparing for the next stage of my career. While having goals and being motivated are positive qualities, I have realized that constantly being productive can make it difficult to recognize when I actually need to rest. For me, recovery can be as simple as journaling, watching a movie, listening to music, taking a walk, spending time with people I care about, or creating content simply because I enjoy it. These activities allow me to step outside of my academic and professional responsibilities and reconnect with the parts of myself that exist beyond my career goals. I have learned that rest is not something I should have to earn after accomplishing everything on my list. Rest is part of what allows me to continue carrying out those things. At the same time, I do not think it is fair to place the entire responsibility for wellness on individual professionals. Telling a criminal justice professional to “practice self-care” does not solve the problem if that person is working in an environment with excessive workloads, inadequate staffing, limited resources, or a culture that discourages asking for help. Organizations have a responsibility to create environments where seeking mental health support is viewed as a strength rather than a weakness. This is where I believe the criminal justice field has an opportunity to improve. Wellness programs, peer-support systems, access to confidential mental health services, opportunities to debrief after critical incidents, reasonable workloads, and supportive leadership can help make recovery part of the organizational culture. CISM provides one example of an organized approach to helping professionals manage the effects of critical incidents (Health Assured, n.d.). However, these resources should not only become available after someone reaches a crisis point. Prevention and routine wellness support are equally important.
The discussion of the Black Panther Party also reinforced for me the importance of looking beyond popular narratives when examining issues of trauma and community well-being. Learning about the organization’s community-based initiatives reminded me that healing does not always come from formal institutions. Communities can create their own systems of support and care, particularly when existing systems have failed to meet their needs. This perspective is important for criminal justice professionals because understanding the communities they serve requires looking beyond stereotypes and considering the historical and social circumstances that influence people’s experiences with trauma (Rousseau, 2026).
The course Trauma and Crisis Intervention has changed the way I understand recovery. Trauma-informed criminal justice should not only ask, “How do we help the person who has experienced trauma?” It should also ask, “How do we support the people who spend their careers responding to that trauma?” I believe the answer requires both individual and organizational responsibility. Individuals must learn to recognize their own needs and develop meaningful ways to recover, while organizations must create environments where doing so is encouraged and supported. Most importantly, we need to move away from the idea that asking for help or taking a break is a sign of weakness. A professional can be resilient and still need support. A person can be committed to their work and still need time away from it. For me, learning how to recover is part of preparing for the professional I want to become. I want to be someone who can care deeply about difficult issues without allowing those issues to consume every part of my life. Self-care is therefore not something separate from my professional development. It is part of it. If we expect criminal justice professionals to protect, advocate for, and help others through some of the most difficult experiences of their lives, we should also make sure they have the opportunity, resources, and permission to care for themselves.
References
Health Assured. (n.d.). Critical incident management. https://www.healthassured.org/trauma-management/critical-incident-management/
Kulbarsh, P. (2016). 2015 police suicide statistics. Officer.com. https://www.officer.com/training-careers/article/12156622/2015-police-suicide-statistics
Maguen, S., Metzler, T. J., McCaslin, S. E., Inslicht, S. S., Henn-Haase, C., Neylan, T. C., & Marmar, C. R. (2009). Routine work environment stress and PTSD symptoms in police officers. The Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease.
Rousseau, D. (2026). Module 6: Trauma and the criminal justice system [Online module]. Blackboard at Boston University.
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
Public Service and Vicarious Trauma: Exploring the Wounded Healer Archetype
To enter into a career of public service is akin to formally putting the needs of others (and the community at large) above your own. For this reason, careers in medicine, emergency services, law enforcement, and social work tend to attract people with a certain mindset. Altruistic and service oriented, these individuals are driven by empathy to help others. All too often, however, the people who professionally provide care for others are the same people who struggle to ask for help themselves.
Vicarious Trauma
First responders, medical personnel, and those who work in or adjacent to the criminal justice system are routinely exposed to the physical and psychological distress of those they serve. Trauma does not have to be directly experienced for it to have an impact; being a repetitive witness to it can also take its toll (Rousseau, 2026). Referred to as “vicarious” or “secondary” trauma, the buildup of stress from continuous exposure to violence or trauma presents an ongoing occupational challenge for many of those in public service roles. In bearing witness, practitioners can develop symptoms similar to post traumatic stress disorder, including hypervigilance, guilt, avoidance, sleep disturbances, addiction, and more (Rousseau, 2026). Maintaining resilience, the ability to adapt to stress and maintain psychological wellbeing in the face of adversity (SAMHSA, 2018), throughout these repeated exposures becomes critical for career longevity.
The Wounded Healer
Stress management for public servants rarely involves speaking about it openly. Why do so many “professional helpers” have a hard time asking for assistance themselves? Historical stigmatization and fear of penalization have resulted in the internalization of vicarious trauma as a private, personal ordeal, especially in law enforcement fields where self-control, emotional stoicism, and hypermasculinity are expected (and even encouraged). Another explanation is the “Wounded Healer” archetype popularized by psychiatrist Carl Jung in the 1950s (Jung, 1954). Taking inspiration from Greek mythology’s Chiron, a centaur who can heal others but not himself, Jung characterizes the Wounded Healer as an individual whose personal experience with adversity permits them greater empathy and insight for helping others (Mehta, 2024). A profound sense of meaning can be derived from helping others. The idea of being barred from doing so due to declining mental health could be another potential reason for keeping struggles to oneself.
This archetypical explanation is more retrospective than circumspective, however. That is, it better explains why some people choose public service (aware of the challenges associated with such fields), rather than why they may not recognize signs of struggle within themselves enough to ask for help. A meta-analysis published in 2021 found there exists a relationship between prior adverse experiences and vocational decisions in those who go into helping professions (Bryce et al.). Adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) and cumulative trauma have long-lasting effects, including the desire to understand and derive meaning from enduring/surviving trauma. Early family dysfunction, parentification, and traits developed through adversity (e.g. altruism, empathy, sensitivity to others’ distress or vulnerability) were each associated with career choice in public service (Bryce et al., 2021). In short, the "Wounded Healer" is someone drawn to the helping professions as a way to remedy prior traumatic experiences or to prevent others from having to experience the same. The latter “preventionist” mindset is truly what stops them from asking for help. Role reversal away from being the “rescuer” may feel like an existential threat to their entire identity.
Deriving meaning from your career is not inherently harmful. Meaningful work can encourage engagement and genuine fulfillment in life. It is when the job becomes entirely tied up in your self-worth that resilience begins to fall away and burnout can set in. For this reason, healthy coping mechanisms and self-care are vital for those at risk for vicarious trauma.
References
Bryce, I., Pye, D., Beccaria, G., McIlveen, P., & Du Preez, J. (2021). A systematic literature review of the career choice of helping professionals who have experienced cumulative harm as a result of adverse childhood experiences. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, 24(1). https://doi.org/10.1177/15248380211016016
Jung, C. G. (1954). The Collected Works of C. G. Jung: The Practice of Psychotherapy (Vol. 16). Pantheon Books. https://s3.us-west-1.wasabisys.com/luminist/EB/I-J-K/Jung%20-%20The%20Practice%20of%20Psychotherapy.pdf
Mehta, D. H. (2024). Nurturing resilience in the wounded healer. In Psychiatric Times. https://www.psychiatrictimes.com/view/nurturing-resilience-in-the-wounded-healer
Rousseau, D. (2026). MET CJ720 – Module 1 – Introduction to Trauma [Online module]. Blackboard Ultra. Boston University.
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. (2018). First Responders: Behavioral Health Concerns, Emergency Response, and Trauma. In Disaster Technical Assistance Center Supplemental Research Bulletin. https://www.samhsa.gov/sites/default/files/dtac/supplementalresearchbulletin firstresponders-may2018.pdf
Healing Together: How Sexual Assault Can Impact Romantic Relationships
Sexual assault is a traumatic experience that can have lasting psychological, emotional, physical, and social effects on survivors. Many of these survivors experience symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Van der Kolk (2014) explains how some individuals who have experienced trauma have a difficult time moving past their experience, making it difficult to bridge the gap between their experience and their current life. Unfortunately, these individuals are stuck in a constant cycle of what happened to them, failing to adopt ways to move forward. These effects can also shape romantic relationships, especially when sexual assault occurred before or during the relationship, impacting the quality and level of satisfaction. While there is a large focus on the psychological and emotional consequences of trauma, less attention has been placed on how those experiences influence romantic relationships over time. Romantic relationships can be an important source of comfort, safety, and connection. For survivors of sexual assault, intimacy may also become complicated by trauma-related symptoms, changes in trust, communication challenges, and concerns about emotional or physical closeness. While every survivor’s experience is different, sexual assault impacts not only the survivor’s well-being but also the overall functioning of a romantic relationship.
After a sexual assault, survivors may experience anxiety, depression, hypervigilance, flashbacks, or avoidance. These trauma-related symptoms can make communication, emotional and physical intimacy difficult, which could impact the development and maintenance of healthy romantic relationships. Survivors may feel distant from their partners, struggle with vulnerability, or find that certain situations trigger distress. Research shows that trauma symptoms are often associated with lower relationship satisfaction, emphasizing that the effects of sexual assault extend beyond the individual survivor (DiMauro & Renshaw; Georgia et al., 2018), creating additional challenges when symptoms are not understood or addressed. By understanding their symptoms and regulating their emotions, a survivor can foster resilience. Resilience is important in a survivor’s recovery from stress and trauma and is associated with positive changes in thinking and perception, which regulate symptoms of PTSD (Wu et al., 2015). Resilience occurs mentally, physically, emotionally, and socially, all areas that impact a romantic relationship. Growth in these areas encourages survivors to be open to new opportunities and changes in relationships, promoting intimacy, connection, and mutual understanding.
In romantic relationships, a supportive partner can play a meaningful role in a survivor’s healing process, helping them experience post-traumatic growth, which is an extension of resilience. Post-traumatic growth may be encouraged by positive social support, gratitude, strong family ties, secure attachment, self-care, meaning-making, debriefing, and prompt intervention (Rousseau, 2026). Research suggests that partners who offer patience, understanding, and emotional support can play a significant role in a survivor's healing process (O'Callaghan et al., 2019; Person et al., 2024; Stockman et al., 2024). However, support does not mean trying to “fix” the survivor or rush recovery. Instead, it involves listening without judgment, respecting boundaries, being patient, and creating an environment where the survivor feels safe expressing needs and concerns. When partners respond with empathy and consistency, survivors may feel more empowered to rebuild trust and intimacy at their own pace. Open communication about boundaries, triggers, comfort levels, and emotional needs can also help couples better understand one another. Although these conversations may be difficult, they can also create opportunities for closeness, respect, and mutual care. Partners who communicate clearly and compassionately are better positioned to navigate challenges together rather than allowing trauma-related stress to create distance.
Healing after sexual assault is a deeply personal process, and no two relationships will look the same. Supportive partnership, patient communication, and trauma-informed care can help couples navigate the effects of assault while building healthier patterns of connection. EMDR is one trauma-informed intervention that may benefit survivors who have yet to address their trauma. It is designed to reduce distress connected to traumatic memories by guiding clients through rhythmic eye movements while recalling the traumatic event and shifting toward more positive thoughts (Cowan et al., 2020). This process identifies areas associated with the client’s distress, allowing them to desensitize themselves from the memories, which can help survivors gain the control they need to become calm when encountering triggers. For survivors who have disclosed their experiences to their partner, sex therapy could help address challenges through honesty, empathy, and mutual support, as this has the potential to increase relationship satisfaction. Recognizing the lasting effects of sexual assault on romantic relationships while promoting open communication and trauma-informed, evidence-based interventions can help survivors and their partners strengthen intimacy, build resilience, and develop healthier, more fulfilling relationships.
References
Cowan, A., Ashai, A., & Gentile, J. P. (2020). Psychotherapy with survivors of sexual abuse and assault. Innovations in Clinical Neuroscience, 17(1-3), 22–26. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7239557/
DiMauro, J., & Renshaw, K. D. (2019). PTSD and relationship satisfaction in female survivors of sexual assault. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy, 11(5), 534-541. https://doi.org/10.1037/tra0000391
Georgia, E. J., Roddy, M. K., & Doss, B. D. (2018). Sexual assault and dyadic relationship satisfaction: Indirect associations through intimacy and mental health. Violence Against Women, 24(8), 936–951. https://doi.org/10.1177/1077801217727371
O’Callaghan, E., Shepp, V., Ullman, S. E., & Kirkner, A. (2019). Navigating sex and sexuality after sexual assault: A qualitative study of survivors and informal support providers. The Journal of Sex Research, 56(8), 1045–1057. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224499.2018.1506731
Person, A. I., Frazier, P. A., Selvey-Bouyack, A. M., Anders, S. L., Shallcross, S. L., & Simpson, J. A. (2024). Associations between sexual assault and romantic relationship functioning: A mixed-methods analysis. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 41(8), 2297–2322. https://doi.org/10.1177/02654075241241496
Rousseau, D. (2026). Module 1: Lesson 1.2: Addressing trauma [Online Module]. Blackboard at Boston University. https://learn.bu.edu/ultra/course
Stockman, D., Van Parys, H., Uzieblo, K., Littleton, H., Keygnaert, I., Lemmens, G., & Verhofstadt, L. (2024). Coping with sexual violence as a post-assault formed couple: A dyadic phenomenological interview analysis. Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy, 50(7), 787–810. https://doi.org/10.1080/0092623X.2024.2374245
Van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
Wu, K., Zhang, Y., Liu, Z., Zhou, P., & Wei, C. (2015). Coexistence and different determinants of posttraumatic stress disorder and posttraumatic growth among Chinese survivors after earthquake: Role of resilience and rumination. Frontiers in Psychology, 6, 1043. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2015.01043
Who is helping the helpers? Importance in Self Care
When we think about trauma, we often focus on the people directly experiencing it. We think about victims of violence, abuse, or disasters, but we don't always stop to consider the professionals who witness these experiences every day. Social workers, police officers, behavioral specialists, teachers, counselors, and other helping professionals spend their careers supporting individuals through some of the most difficult moments of their lives. While helping others is incredibly rewarding, it also comes with an emotional cost. One of the biggest lessons I have learned throughout my professional experiences is that helping others begins with taking care of yourself!
As a former social worker, I worked closely with individuals and families experiencing abuse, crisis, and other traumatic life events. Although I wasn't directly experiencing the trauma, I used to listen to heartbreaking stories every day and worked alongside clients during some of the most challenging periods of their lives. Over time, I realized that constantly absorbing other people's pain could become emotionally exhausting if I didn't make time to care for my own mental health. Maintaining healthy boundaries, relying on supportive colleagues, and finding time to disconnect after work became essential rather than optional.
My perspective on trauma continued to grow during my internship conducting research with local law enforcement. While I was not responding to emergencies myself, I had the opportunity to work alongside officers and gain insight into the realities of policing. The course readings describe critical incidents as events that can overwhelm an individual's normal coping abilities, and law enforcement officers often experience these incidents throughout their careers (Rousseau, 2026). Seeing the emotional demands placed on officers reinforced how important it is for agencies to support their employees through wellness initiatives and programs such as Critical Incident Stress Management (CISM). Too often, officers feel pressure to hide their struggles because of the stigma surrounding mental health or fear that seeking help could negatively affect their careers. However, ignoring trauma does not make it disappear- it often allows it to grow.
Today, I work as a Behavioral Specialist in a school district, where I continue to see the effects of trauma every day. Many students arrive at school carrying emotional burdens that affect their ability to learn, build relationships, and regulate their behavior. This experience has taught me an important lesson: behavior is often a form of communication. Instead of immediately asking, "What's wrong with this student?" I find myself asking, "What has this student experienced?" Taking a trauma-informed approach has allowed me to better support students while also reminding me that professionals must protect their own emotional well-being if they want to continue helping others effectively.
One concept that has stood out to me throughout this course is that recovery and resilience are not just important for trauma survivors; they are equally important for the professionals who care for them. Compassion fatigue, secondary traumatic stress, and burnout are real challenges across helping professions. Without intentional self-care, these challenges can impact decision-making, relationships, job performance, and overall mental health!
Organizations have an important role to play in supporting employee wellness. Providing confidential counseling services, peer support programs, regular wellness check-ins, and training that reduces the stigma surrounding mental health can make a meaningful difference. Equally important is creating workplace cultures where asking for help is viewed as a sign of professionalism rather than weakness. When organizations invest in the well-being of their employees, they are also investing in better outcomes for the individuals and communities those professionals serve.
At the end of the day, I have learned that self-care is not selfish... it is necessary. Whether working in social work, law enforcement, education, or another helping profession, we cannot continue pouring into others if our own cup is empty. Taking time to recover emotionally and physically allows us to remain compassionate, effective, and resilient in careers that ask so much of us. If we truly value helping others heal from trauma, we must also remember to care for the people doing the helping.
Reference
Rousseau, D. (2026). Module 6: Trauma and the Criminal Justice System. Boston University. Blackboard.
Are You Listening Yet?: The Ethics of Bearing Witness to Trauma
“Tell your story” has become a familiar response to trauma. Survivors are encouraged to speak as a way to reclaim their voices, educate others, and begin to heal. Although disclosure like this can be meaningful, this message also contains an assumption: that speaking is always therapeutic and that a survivor’s story will be taken seriously and received with care. Testimony can instead expose a person to disbelief, judgement, unwanted scrutiny, or pressure to make suffering understandable to others. Bearing witness, therefore, cannot mean merely allowing someone to speak. It requires examination as to who is treated as credible, what listeners demand from traumatic narratives, and what responsibilities follow once those narratives have been voiced out loud and heard.
Because I had already read Elie Wiesel’s Night in high school and again as an undergraduate, I was familiar with its events. What affected me differently this time around was the failure of listening that occurs before Eliezer and his family are deported. Moshe the Beadle survives a mass execution and returns to Sighet to warn others. He tells the community what he witnessed, but his testimony is dismissed as the ramblings of a madman. The problem here is not that Moshe cannot speak. The problem is that the truth that he is communicating is far more disruptive than the community is prepared to accept. Believing him would require people to reconsider their safety, abandon familiar (and comforting) routines, and take action without knowing whether escape would even succeed. It is easier for them to diagnose something wrong with Moshe than it is to recognize that something has gone catastrophically wrong with the world around them (Wiesel, 2006).
Philosopher Miranda Fricker’s concept of testimonial injustice helps explain this failure. Testimonial injustice occurs when prejudice causes a listener to assign less credibility to a speaker than that person deserves. The harm is not limited to reaching an incorrect conclusion; the speaker is also treated as incapable of contributing knowledge about their own experience. Moshe’s poverty, eccentricity, and visibly traumatized state make him easy to discredit. His distress, which should help communicate the severity of what he witnessed, is interpreted as evidence that his account is unreliable. The community’s response demonstrates how trauma can create a credibility trap: survivors may be doubted because they appear too emotional, but they may also be doubted if they appear detached or insufficiently emotional (Fricker, 2007).
This raises an uncomfortable question: Do people truly want to hear about trauma, or do they want a version that doesn’t threaten their assumptions? Public conversations often reward survivors whose narratives are chronological, controlled, and ultimately hopeful. A story of suffering that ends with resilience offers listeners a reassuring conclusion. It suggests that trauma can be overcome through courage and personal strength. However, not all trauma produces a coherent narrative, and not every survivor has such a clean cut recovery process. Demanding clarity, consistency, or inspiration may make testimonies easier to consume, but it can also replace the survivor’s experience with the listener’s preferred version of it.
Laub (1992) argues that listening to trauma requires attention not only to what is articulated, but also to what is not: silence, hesitation, contradiction, and all of which can't yet be put into words. A person might remember sensory details intensely while struggling with chronology, or perhaps return repeatedly to one fragment while other parts of the memory remain inaccessible. An ethical listener shouldn’t automatically treat these features as evidence of deception. At the same time, respecting the complexity of traumatic memories does not require also abandoning questions of factual accuracy. Historical, clinical, and legal institutions may have legitimate reasons to seek clarification and corroboration. The challenge is to investigate without assuming the survivor’s discombobulation disqualifies them from being a credible witness.
This distinction reveals a limitation of the language of “believing survivors.” Belief is ethically significant, particularly when prejudice has historically caused certain groups to be ignored. Yet responsible witnessing can’t mean accepting every interpretation or factual claim without examination. It should mean beginning from a position of respect rather than suspicion- a variant of the phrase “innocent until proven guilty.” This includes avoiding credibility judgements based on stereotypes, and separating requests for clarification from attacks on a person’s character. A trauma-informed response does not promise that every account will be interpreted exactly as the speaker wishes. It promises that the speaker will not be treated as disposable, irrational, or morally suspect simply because the experience is difficult to narrate.
Research on social responses to trauma reinforces the importance of this distinction. Lis-Turlejska et al. (2018) studied elderly Polish survivors of World War II and found that a perceived lack of social acknowledgement was associated with greater symptoms of posttraumatic stress and depression. This does not prove that social rejection directly causes those symptoms, nor does it mean acknowledgement alone can resolve severe trauma. The study was correlational and relied on self-reported experiences, so its findings should not be interpreted as a simple cause/effect relationship. Nevertheless, it suggests that trauma is not exclusively an internal psychological condition. Recovery can be shaped by whether families, communities, and institutions recognize what occurred.
Recognition, however, is not necessarily the same as support. Relyea and Ullman (2015) distinguish between openly hostile reactions to sexual-assault disclosures and “unsupportive acknowledgement,” in which someone accepts that the assault occurred but responds in ways that fail to meet the survivor’s needs. A listener might believe the disclosure whilst also minimizing its impact, attempting to control what the survivor does next, demanding more details, or offering unsolicited advice. In their study, almost all participants reported experiencing some form of acknowledgement without sufficient support, and these reactions were associated with harmful psychological and coping outcomes. The findings complicate the idea that saying “I believe you” is the end of an ethical response- it may in fact only be the beginning.
Listening can also become exploitative when survivors are expected to disclose for the benefit of institutions or audiences. Schools may ask survivors to educate their peers. Media outlets may emphasize or glamourize the most graphic or emotional details. Courts may require people to repeat painful experiences while subjecting minor inconsistencies to intense public scrutiny. Even well-intentioned listeners may search for lessons about hope or forgiveness that the survivor doesn’t wish to provide. Under these circumstances, testimony risks becoming a performance of suffering.
Cultural competency further complicates the assumption that disclosure is universally desirable. Cultures differ in how they understand privacy, family responsibilities, emotional expression, mental health, and the public discussion of violence. Silence may sometimes stem from fear or stigma, but it can also be an intentional boundary, form of self-protection, or a culturally meaningful way to manage suffering. Treating verbal disclosure as the only healthy response risks imposing one cultural model of healing on everyone. Trauma-informed practice should make testimony possible without making it compulsory.
The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration identifies safety, trustworthiness, collaboration, empowerment, choice, peer support, and attention to cultural and historical context as central features of a trauma-informed approach. Applied to witnessing, these principles shift control away from the listener. Instead of demanding a complete story, a responsible listener might ask what the person wants from the conversation, whether practical help is needed, what details they are comfortable sharing, and what should remain private. The objective is not to extract the most complete account possible. It is to avoid reproducing the powerlessness that often characterizes trauma in the first place (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, 2014).
Ordinary Men introduces another necessary limitation: listening to testimony does not mean suspending moral judgement, and all testimonies do not occupy the same ethical space. Browning (1992) relies on postwar interrogations and statements from members of Police Battalion 101 to reconstruct their participation in mass murder. Their accounts are historically important, but they are also shaped by self-interest, hindsight, selective memory, and attempts to reduce personal responsibility. Browning listens to the perpetrators in order to understand them, not to absolve them.
This matters because trauma language can blur morally essential distinctions. Some members of the battalion may have experienced distress or lasting psychological consequences after participating in executions. Their suffering can be acknowledged without equating it with the suffering of their victims. The fact that committing violence may traumatize a perpetrator doesn’t transform that perpetrator into another type of victim or erase the choices that produced that harm. Ethical witnessing requires compassion, but it also requires attention to power, responsibility, and whose suffering is at the center.
Taken together, Night, Ordinary Men, and trauma research suggest that bearing witness is neither passive, nor morally simple. Survivors are not obligated to disclose, disclosure is not automatically healing, and acknowledgement without meaningful support may be insufficient. Listening responsibly means resisting prejudicial disbelief while also avoiding romanticization, coercion, or uncritical acceptance. It requires tolerating narratives that remain fragmented or unresolved and recognizing that the listener’s desire for certainty may conflict with the survivor’s need for autonomy.
Moshe the Beadle’s tragedy is not that the people of Sighet failed to believe him- it is that they heard his testimony without permitting it to change what they understood about their world or how they act. His experience demonstrates that listening becomes ethical only when it carries consequences. Bearing witness should lead us to protect the speaker’s agency, confront the conditions that produced the trauma, and consider what responsibility we now possess because we know. Otherwise, listening risks becoming another way of asking survivors to relive their pain while everyone else remains unchanged.
References:
- Browning, C. R. (1992). Ordinary men: Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final Solution in Poland. HarperCollins.
- Laub, D. (1992). Bearing witness, or the vicissitudes of listening. In S. Felman and D. Laub, Testimony: Crises of witnessing in literature, psychoanalysis, and history (pp. 57–74). Routledge. https://hemisphericinstitute.org/images/courses/spring-2009/laub_bearingwitness.pdf
- Fricker, M. (2007). Epistemic injustice: Power and the ethics of knowing. Oxford University Press. https://web.flu.cas.cz/scan/323537766.pdf
- Lis-Turlejska, M., Szumiał, S., & Drapała, I. (2018). Posttraumatic stress symptoms among Polish World War II survivors: The role of social acknowledgement. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 9(1), Article 1423831. https://doi.org/10.1080/20008198.2018.1423831
- Relyea, M., & Ullman, S. E. (2015). Unsupported or turned against: Understanding how two types of negative social reactions to sexual assault relate to postassault outcomes. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 39(1), 37–52. https://doi.org/10.1177/0361684313512610
- Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. (2014). SAMHSA’s concept of trauma and guidance for a trauma-informed approach (HHS Publication No. SMA 14-4884).
- Wiesel, E. (2006). Night (M. Wiesel, Trans.; 1st ed. of new translation). Hill and Wang. (Original work published 1958)
When Foster Care Becomes Family
I saw firsthand how childhood trauma can affect children. My grandparents ran a foster home and eventually adopted seven children. These kids became more than foster children to me; they became part of my family. One of the hardest parts was getting close to them, watching them become comfortable and feel safe, and then having to watch them go back to the same situations they came from. Every child had a different background and their own story. Some experienced neglect, abuse, instability, or other forms of trauma that no child should have to experience. It was extremely difficult to see a child finally feel safe and loved and then have to leave that environment. These experiences were very difficult for my family and me, and even more so for the foster child being affected.
The Body Keeps the Score helped me understand these experiences in a different way. Van der Kolk explains that trauma does not simply disappear when the traumatic event is over. It can affect how someone thinks, behaves, handles emotions, trusts people, and responds to stress. This is especially important with children because they may not know how to explain what they are feeling. A child who is acting out, shutting down, or having trouble trusting adults may not just be a “problem child.” There is usually a reason behind their behavior. Instead of asking, “What is wrong with this child?” we should ask, “What happened to this child?” I believe the foster care system needs to take this trauma-informed approach more seriously. Children should receive consistent support and mental health resources that focus on what they have experienced, rather than only focusing on their behavior.
Even though childhood trauma and foster care can be extremely difficult, I believe there is still a lot of hope. Children need stability, patience, and people who will continue to show up for them. My grandparents showed me how important that can be by opening their home to so many children and eventually adopting seven of them. They gave these kids a place where they could feel loved and supported. Their story taught me that trauma does not have to determine a child's entire future. With the right support, safe relationships, and people who believe in them, children can heal and have the opportunity to build a better life. Sometimes having just one person who refuses to give up on a child can make a bigger difference than we realize.