Allison is a professor at the Canadian College of Naturopathic Medicine and a Certified Compassionate Inquiry® (CI) Practitioner with advanced training in somatic, relational, and psychedelic therapies.
Rachèl works with students at secondary and post-secondary levels. A Certified Compassionate Inquiry® Practitioner, she also contributes to initiatives bringing trauma-informed practices into schools and learning communities.
As an educator, Mays is committed to education as a path for healing, liberation, and transformation. She conducts research on biofeedback, stress/burnout, and trauma-informed care and advocates for institutional tending to intergenerational trauma to prioritize repair, healing, and well-being.
In this excerpt, three educators reflect on the teacher’s wound and what it means to simultaneously tend to a system and a sanctuary within it. Hear the full conversation on The Gifts of Trauma Podcast.
Most of us remember one teacher, not necessarily what they taught but how they made us feel. Seen, perhaps, or invisible, or somewhere in between. Those memories, even decades later, can live on in our bodies. To some extent, they shaped who we became. For some of us, they lead us to teach.
In this episode, we asked each guest, “What is the teacher’s wound? Where does it live, and what does it ask of you?” Here are their answers:
MAYS: That raises a question I thought I had settled: “What does it mean to be an ethical, relevant, and meaningful educator at this moment?” It’s terrifying that sometimes I have no idea what the answer is. That’s wounding for a teacher who sees teaching not as a profession but a calling. Another wound is to see the classroom as both a sanctuary and an element that perpetuates a system that “others,” wounds, and transgresses. That’s very wounding too. But as one of my mentors said, “My responsibility is to plant seeds for healing, not to escape the pain.”
I am aware that part of this wound is to sit in the wound, to hold the grief, and to be in the contradiction of being an agent of the system who fully believes in its power to liberate. Like moving parts in my heart, it’s an evolving question that I have to tend to.
Teaching and learning are biological, physiological, spiritual, psychological, and emotional phenomena. Meaningful and sustainable learning invites our backgrounds, identities, and consciousnesses and subconsciousnesses to all come together. We already contain all the questions and all the answers, but they’re masked and covered by our wounds. The brain struggles with feelings of constriction, with “othering,” with not being seen, and with being in that uncertain state of, “do I matter?” “Am I seen?” That’s all really painful. However, when we cultivate safety and co-creation, the unmasking and healing can begin.
ALLISON: When I was certified in education, I qualified to teach early childhood / elementary. I spent a little time with the wee ones, which was play, and I loved it. I spent a little time with the older ones and wished it could still be play. With those littlest ones. I remember having to sing, and I was horrified, as singing was not my thing. But lo and behold, I learned to sing, to enjoy it and to call the kids in. Who cares if you’re off-key, forget a word or your voice does something weird? There’s a joy in singing and in trusting that it’s okay.
I have taught for 20 years at the graduate level, and like many teachers, I invested extra time, money, supplies, etc., giving to a system that never says, “Oh, you’ve been giving. Let us feed you back some of that.” It took me a long time to find that boundary past which I don’t give anymore.
In my early days, I would teach one way with one class in a semester, and the feedback would say, “We want another way.” So I’d do more of this and less of that. But then the next group would want more of that and less of this. It probably took me a decade to get to a place of, “This is what I feel good about. This is how I want to share it. It won’t work for everybody all of the time, but I’m good with how this is being served, with how I’m engaging.”
Having been conditioned to show up very differently, I can track my movement through different layers of shadow to feeling security in myself, having more permission to be authentic and engage people from that place. This feels very different from jumping through all of my shadow self’s hoops.
RACHÈL: Teaching is a relational field, not just a knowledge delivery system. For me, that’s the centre of it, which is a kind of sanctuary as well. Like many teachers, I don’t toot my own horn very often and don’t often see the impact, but I pulled up an email that I received from a student. She said, “Not only have you enriched my understanding of the trilogy, which is psychology, sociology and anthropology, but you also taught me how important it is to put yourself first. You taught me how to work through stressful times and understand what’s going on inside our bodies. When it comes to anxiety, one specific instance sticks out to me. And this is, to me, when everything else feels like it’s going to crap in a handbasket. I was overwhelmed in class and was trying hard to hold in my tears. But then you told me to just let it out. And that meant so much to me. Having a teacher who cared about my feelings and knowing tears did not diminish your view towards me made me feel comfortable.”
When I have doubts, that sentence is all that matters. Obviously, we have to cover pedagogy, curriculum, etc., but to me, that’s why we do it. I also want to add that teachers need to look after ourselves, as we can’t pour from an empty cup.
The student who wrote to Rachèl didn’t need a perfect teacher. She needed one who let her cry. That’s the teacher’s wound at its most useful… Not resolved, but present. Soft enough to feel and steady enough to stay. Mays’ Rumi quote concludes this episode beautifully: “I would tell teachers everywhere, you are the ocean and the drop.”
The Gifts of Trauma is a weekly podcast that features personal stories of trauma, transformation, healing, and the gifts revealed on the path to authenticity. Listen to the full conversation, and if you like it, please subscribe, rate, review, and share.
Editor’s Note: This post is comprised of edited excerpts drawn from The Gifts of Trauma podcast transcript. Selected passages have been carefully woven together to create a cohesive narrative that speaks in the guests’ voices and faithfully represents their perspectives. – Rosemary Davies-Janes
