Vicarious Resilience
An antidote to
vicarious trauma.
Which is what happens when you’re infected by others’ trauma and experience compassion fatigue, which is, well, exhaustion that drains you of the capacity for compassion. (In my experience, compassion fatigue feels more like unregulated compassion, like being flooded by sadness and helplessness and despair. Which renders me and my compassion completely impotent. Which is utterly awful.)
So what is vicarious resilience?
Apparently, it happens when you’re infected by others’ strength, fortitude, and perseverance in the face of trauma.
Resilience. Such a beautiful word. It makes me think of grass that springs back after you step on it. Springy, elastic, flexible, active, alive.
If you’re a teacher, it’s quite possible you are dipping your toe in the waters of vicarious trauma right this minute. If that is so, how can you find vicarious resilience?
It is not through self-help (though self-help like regular exercise, eating right, sleeping well, etc., is a job requirement for teachers). It is through getting helped by others. Which means taking the time to be with other people.
Specifically, with other teachers who can
share successes
with students, colleagues, and parents that would otherwise drag them down.
Where do those successes come from? In my own experience, they come from Teacher Support Groups. Places where teachers tell their worst teaching stories — about that kid who threatened them, the obnoxious class that hurt their feelings, the co-teacher who wouldn’t pull his weight — and figure out, with each other’s help and support (and the support of a facilitator), how to spring back.
Teachers are arguably incredibly resilient people. When vicarious trauma (or their very own trauma) threaten, though, I worry that these same teachers tend to hunker down. Isolate. Berate themselves for not being able to overcome difficulty. Perhaps berate their students and colleagues for causing the difficulty.
All maladaptive responses.
The healthy response is to do what perhaps comes unnaturally: Turn to others. Tell your story. Get psychodynamically informed help in understanding the meaning of that story. Make a plan of action. Implement. Feel relief. Be resilient again.