TechGuruindia
Member
Navigating school spaces is a journey and students’ needs are ever changing. While educators are
, many districts are scrambling to meet the needs of all their students.
As a parent, I felt the impact of the departures when I had to guide my then seventh-grader through math without a consistent teacher after a mid-year exit. , colleges and are dedicating time and resources to , but are we spending enough time focused on policies and programming that aid in retaining quality faculty and staff? Are we getting to the root of the departures and career pivots? The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated these longstanding workforce issues and blanketed schools in extreme stress, grief and trauma that aggravated existing teaching and learning issues.
It is not lost upon me that schools are complex organizations with a wide variety of experiences, yet there were many similarities shared among my peers who co-created the healing circles with EdSurge Research and the .
This article unveils prominent themes that were uncovered during our time together along with implications and further considerations for research regarding Black women’s experiences and trauma-informed leadership in the classroom. Relating my experiences as a Black woman teacher who recently became an administrator with the experiences of my peers and fellow Black women, we contend with the ways that trauma shows up for Black women educators and how school leaders can support them.
When I look back over my journey as a Black educator, there were many unforgettable, challenging moments. I specifically recall a time when I was the only Black teacher on staff, and a family challenged my ability to teach their child English. I’ve also had extreme highs, like seeing a family’s face light up from their child experiencing their first Black teacher. These peaks and valleys molded me into a resilient educator and established my why as a teaching professional.
I discovered that having a love for children isn’t always enough to keep someone in the classroom or even the school building. If a community hasn’t cultivated a space where individuals feel seen, heard, and valued, it will cultivate dissatisfaction among educators and we will continue to lose teachers.
After participating in an EdSurge Research healing circle and being in community with other Black women educators, I realized that others in the group had similar experiences. Specifically, I noticed a recurring theme of trauma among my peers.
In the school setting, trauma can take various forms: only being supported in private, having someone take credit for your contributions, working in a competitive school or being in a setting that’s . Other Black women in the healing circle shared the challenge of balancing self-care with the emotional labor of loving their students in a system that’s toward us and our students.
Professor of public health and African American Studies David R. Willaims has produced an abundance of , highlighting how everyday discrimination and anti-Blackness calcifies in the psyches and limbs of Black people. Research by Barbara C. Wallace also illustrates how people tend to like positive affirmations and advocating for themselves and students, these defense mechanisms eventually fail if the root cause is untreated. Wallace asserts that trauma responses, like hypervigilance and martyrdom, then have long-term health consequences.
Of the many definitions of trauma, the concept that guides our analyses of trauma in this research is one that acknowledges that . Coupled with gendered stereotypes placed on Black women, especially within school contexts, the endurance of sexism and anti-Blackness has , well-being and .
For example, I recall a time I was seeing a therapist weekly, desperately seeking tools and strategies to navigate my work-related experiences. There were moments when I would sit in my car before work, ridden with anxiety, trying to pull myself together before entering the school building. I felt unsupported and undervalued. I hadn’t processed the adverse impact the previous school had on my health until I left that school. I often wondered if other folks had had similar experiences within school environments, and sadly, I learned that I was not alone.
As you will see from the following themes that emerged from our research study, the trauma Black women educators experience in schools is generational, systemic and indicative of the longstanding issues that plague teacher retention and well-being for Black women.
During the healing circles, other Black women and I consistently mentioned how being an educator is more than a job; it is a vocation that is a salient part of their identity. While reflecting on her decision to take a long-term leave of absence, an elementary teacher from Minnesota rhetorically queried: “If I cannot teach, who am I?”
This sparked conversations about balancing family and work responsibilities, combatting performative whiteness in schools, and ultimately, losing oneself in work. Our participants noted how these issues chronically show up as stress, trauma, hypervigilance, and the difficulties of divorcing these typecasts of Black womanhood.
As a parent, I felt the impact of the departures when I had to guide my then seventh-grader through math without a consistent teacher after a mid-year exit. , colleges and are dedicating time and resources to , but are we spending enough time focused on policies and programming that aid in retaining quality faculty and staff? Are we getting to the root of the departures and career pivots? The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated these longstanding workforce issues and blanketed schools in extreme stress, grief and trauma that aggravated existing teaching and learning issues.
It is not lost upon me that schools are complex organizations with a wide variety of experiences, yet there were many similarities shared among my peers who co-created the healing circles with EdSurge Research and the .
This article unveils prominent themes that were uncovered during our time together along with implications and further considerations for research regarding Black women’s experiences and trauma-informed leadership in the classroom. Relating my experiences as a Black woman teacher who recently became an administrator with the experiences of my peers and fellow Black women, we contend with the ways that trauma shows up for Black women educators and how school leaders can support them.
Understanding the Prevalence of Trauma Among Black Women Educators
When I look back over my journey as a Black educator, there were many unforgettable, challenging moments. I specifically recall a time when I was the only Black teacher on staff, and a family challenged my ability to teach their child English. I’ve also had extreme highs, like seeing a family’s face light up from their child experiencing their first Black teacher. These peaks and valleys molded me into a resilient educator and established my why as a teaching professional.
I discovered that having a love for children isn’t always enough to keep someone in the classroom or even the school building. If a community hasn’t cultivated a space where individuals feel seen, heard, and valued, it will cultivate dissatisfaction among educators and we will continue to lose teachers.
After participating in an EdSurge Research healing circle and being in community with other Black women educators, I realized that others in the group had similar experiences. Specifically, I noticed a recurring theme of trauma among my peers.
In the school setting, trauma can take various forms: only being supported in private, having someone take credit for your contributions, working in a competitive school or being in a setting that’s . Other Black women in the healing circle shared the challenge of balancing self-care with the emotional labor of loving their students in a system that’s toward us and our students.
Professor of public health and African American Studies David R. Willaims has produced an abundance of , highlighting how everyday discrimination and anti-Blackness calcifies in the psyches and limbs of Black people. Research by Barbara C. Wallace also illustrates how people tend to like positive affirmations and advocating for themselves and students, these defense mechanisms eventually fail if the root cause is untreated. Wallace asserts that trauma responses, like hypervigilance and martyrdom, then have long-term health consequences.
Of the many definitions of trauma, the concept that guides our analyses of trauma in this research is one that acknowledges that . Coupled with gendered stereotypes placed on Black women, especially within school contexts, the endurance of sexism and anti-Blackness has , well-being and .
For example, I recall a time I was seeing a therapist weekly, desperately seeking tools and strategies to navigate my work-related experiences. There were moments when I would sit in my car before work, ridden with anxiety, trying to pull myself together before entering the school building. I felt unsupported and undervalued. I hadn’t processed the adverse impact the previous school had on my health until I left that school. I often wondered if other folks had had similar experiences within school environments, and sadly, I learned that I was not alone.
As you will see from the following themes that emerged from our research study, the trauma Black women educators experience in schools is generational, systemic and indicative of the longstanding issues that plague teacher retention and well-being for Black women.
How Trauma Shows Up in Black Women Educators
During the healing circles, other Black women and I consistently mentioned how being an educator is more than a job; it is a vocation that is a salient part of their identity. While reflecting on her decision to take a long-term leave of absence, an elementary teacher from Minnesota rhetorically queried: “If I cannot teach, who am I?”
This sparked conversations about balancing family and work responsibilities, combatting performative whiteness in schools, and ultimately, losing oneself in work. Our participants noted how these issues chronically show up as stress, trauma, hypervigilance, and the difficulties of divorcing these typecasts of Black womanhood.