Vicarious Trauma

I will apologize in advance if some of what I’m about to say sounds too blunt or insensitive to some, but I’m having a difficult time understanding the need to “protect” children and young adults from trauma. Of course, we should do everything in our power to prevent young adults from having to endure traumatic experiences that are indeed preventable, but when does such prevention morph into some sort of shield from reality that is, in effect, unhealthy?

For example, some youth sports organizations no longer hold championship tournaments or encourage competition for the title of “best” or “champion.” Many youth leagues now eschew “competitive” sports in favor of “participatory” sports—every child who participates receives a “trophy” or some other token to acknowledge his/her participation. Often, the motive behind such “Isn’t-it-wonderful-that- everyone-had-a-chance-to-participate?” gestures is the idea that losing (or failure) would be unnecessarily traumatic for the children who do not win. It’s just too upsetting for a child to have to understand the concept of failure.

The toxic byproducts of such practices are numerous—children don’t get a chance to learn how to cope with disappointments or the failure to get what they want and quite often grow up to be narcissistic, self-centered adults. Because they have been shielded from trauma, they irrationally believe that life should conform to their expectations. The result is often an inaccurate perception of the world with themselves and their desires as the focal point. When things don’t turn out as they wish (a sort of trauma for which they are unprepared), they do not have the skills or knowledge to cope.

It’s healthy for children to experience trauma, whether vicarious or genuine. I am not advocating an increase in traumatic experiences for children, but I am asserting that we need to teach children how to cope with trauma when it occurs, instead of trying to convince them that it doesn’t exist or creating a world for them that is artificially free of trauma.

When I first heard about Follow the North Star, a program sponsored by Conner Prairie, I was appalled. The program simulates for students the experience of being a runaway slave. I reacted with revulsion, believing that it would be unnecessarily brutal for students to experience the trauma of life as a fugitive slave. But then I reconsidered—what better way to bring the experience to life for students? Besides, any trauma involved would be temporary—but the impact would most likely be powerful and permanent.

In I Am Not Esther by Fleur Beale, Kirby, the 14 year-old protagonist, is abandoned by her mother and left to live with relatives she never knew she had. These relatives, members of a fundamentalist, fanatical Christian cult, give Kirby a new name (Esther) and do all they can to erase her former identity and recreate her as a “seemly” Christian girl. The novel, set in New Zealand, is very well written; Beale depicts Kirby’s genuine despair over her situation and portrays Kirby as a resourceful and assertive young woman who figures out how to overcome desperate circumstances (and rescue others in the process). In Kirby, Beale has created a complex, realistic heroine who is vulnerable yet resolute, capable of experiencing both sorrow and triumph.

Would I Am Not Esther traumatize some students? Perhaps. Would it be an appropriate text to use in a class? Absolutely.