I once worked as a consultant in a residential treatment center where there were about a hundred boys ranging in age from seven to seventeen. These children were all “wards of the state” – placed under state guardianship due to abuse or neglect.
These children couldn’t adapt to the foster care system, so they were placed in this residential center. They lived in dormitory-style environments, with most attending the school attached to the center.
Among the children I worked with was a fourteen-year-old named Samuel. When he was seven, the Child Protective Services removed him and his four siblings from their family. They had all suffered neglect, and Samuel had always taken care of and protected his siblings; when their father got drunk, Samuel bore the brunt of his violent anger.
When placed, the four siblings went to another foster home. Samuel was very frustrated and continuously ran away from foster care to find them. He went through twelve foster homes and switched schools twelve times before being placed in the residential center at the age of eleven.
The first thing we did was to re-establish contact between him and his siblings, arranging weekly phone calls and monthly visits. Once he knew they were safe and loved, he finally felt at ease. It was only then that we could truly begin the challenging therapy work.
Over the next three years, Samuel made significant improvements. His social skills improved, he developed good self-control and wouldn’t lose control due to frustration or disappointment; he began to have hope and focus on the future. Despite the chaotic life leading him to fall behind three grade levels, he gradually caught up academically and moved up to a new grade.
Samuel’s new teacher was lively, likable, experienced in teaching – and was a male. In the first week of the new grade, Samuel had three major outbursts, two of which were directed at the teacher. Samuel’s behavior was too aggressive and violent, leading to the need for restraint. This approach was an extreme intervention for the institution and a highly unusual behavior for Samuel.
Unfortunately, such incidents continued to occur. The center’s staff felt puzzled and frustrated, while Samuel was feeling confused and ashamed.
After each incident, I would sit down with the teacher to review what happened, but neither of us could identify the triggering points for the outbursts. I observed Samuel in class, but the teacher didn’t engage in inappropriate behavior or actions that could have provoked Samuel. However, whenever the teacher spoke to Samuel or tried to help him academically, Samuel would show clear signs of agitation.
The only potential trigger I found was closeness; the closer the teacher got to Samuel, the more agitated he became. Over time, the teacher started avoiding interaction – no eye contact, no verbal encouragement, no smiles. He became emotionally and physically distant. It was evident that these two individuals didn’t like each other.
One day, while discussing this with Samuel, his only explanation was, “He hates me. I can’t do anything right.” At that moment, an employee came in to interrupt the counseling session, reminding Samuel that his father’s visit was approaching. Someone had to be present to supervise when his father visited, but the social worker hadn’t arrived, so I volunteered to accompany Samuel.
We entered a meeting room, I sat in a corner waiting for Samuel’s father to arrive. Samuel sat at the meeting table, stacking the checkers. Waiting. His father was late again.
Finally, the door opened, and Samuel’s father came in and sat across from him. They awkwardly greeted each other, then began playing checkers. For the next ten minutes, they played checkers and said less than ten words. Neither of them looked at each other. The tension was palpable.
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Real-life example of trauma affecting the brain: Samuel’s story (2)
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