The central challenge for us all, as therapeutic educators, is to discover the child’s truth, to openly acknowledge it, and to keep telling ourselves the child’s truth, even as it challenges our own resilience and even if we are the only ones willing or able to do this.
The children who find their way to us for help, children who have been hurt and mistreated by those they’ve had to rely on for care, children who—undiminished by their repeated failed efforts—still fight for what they need, only to bring more attention to the fight and less to what they really need, children who no longer trust—constantly hijacked by phantom threats and imagined rejection, children who are afraid of the world every day, complicated children who have long surpassed the capacity of their parent’s, teacher’s and therapist’s to fully understand them or to help them. These children need to be seen by us for the depth of their distress and the full extent of their ordeal, without minimizing, normalizing, denying, or needing to spare the feelings of those who have tried to help and failed, or those who have not tried as they should have.
Without blaming, accusing, or finding fault with anyone who has been involved, or anyone who is involved right now, we must have the courage and the honesty to face the truth behind the suffering that comes through the school door in the morning. We must truly and fully see these children—not the story that others have imposed on them—and we must convince them that they are fully seen, heard, felt, and understood, that we will endeavor to help them and that we are capable and unafraid and won’t look away.
