
The Paradigm Shift American Children Need--That Teachers Are Ready to Make
Long time educator and trainer at Whole Child Initiative, Andrea Poehl, explores how rethinking behavior can change what students need most.
DALLAS, Nov. 3, 2025 /PRNewswire/ -- We're misreading kids. And it's costing them trust, safety, and connection.
Ask almost any school leader what keeps them up at night, and you'll hear a list: staff burnout, scarce resources, rising needs. But almost always, student behavior is near the top. The outbursts, the disruptions, the kids who seem unreachable. Not because children are "bad" or adults don't care, but because we've been handed the wrong script for how to respond.
I know because I followed that script. Like a lot of teachers, I was taught that if you ignore misbehavior, it eventually fizzles out. Sounded logical enough. Then came a student who changed everything. Let's call him Marcus.
Marcus was seven, quick to flare up, the kind of kid who could turn a classroom upside down in minutes. One afternoon he blew up in class. I did what I'd been trained to do: ignored him. Waited him out. But instead of calming, he cranked it up. Louder, sharper, harder. Finally, exhausted, I bent down and asked, "What do you need?"
He looked at me—sweaty, tearful—and said, very quietly, "I just wanted a hug."
That flattened me.
I thought he'd been defiant. But what looked like defiance was fear. What looked like "bad behavior" was just a kid asking for connection in the only language he had. By ignoring him, I hadn't taught resilience. I'd taught him he was on his own.
There's a National Crisis Behind the Behavior
Marcus wasn't the exception. He was the rule.
Three out of four students in America carry at least one hard story in their past—what researchers call an Adverse Childhood Experience, or ACE. One in five carries four or more. Four! That means every classroom, every after-school program, every gymnasium full of kids has a group hauling around enough invisible weight to sink a canoe.
And it's not just kids. Nearly two-thirds of American adults report at least one childhood trauma. Which means most of us know, deep down, what Marcus was up against.
Since the pandemic, schools report huge spikes in concerns about depression, anxiety, trauma. Teachers are the first to see it, but fewer than half of schools say they're equipped to deal with it. So behavior becomes the flashpoint. One outburst and the whole lesson derails. One child melts down and suddenly the teacher, already running on fumes, feels like quitting.
And they are quitting. A Gallup survey in 2022 found 44 percent of teachers "very often" feel burned out. That's the highest rate of any profession measured.
This is not about bad kids or uncaring adults. It's about systems that leave both stranded.
What if Discipline Started with Listening?
For decades the script has told us: clamp down. Suspend, remove, isolate. Keep order.
And yes, those tactics might quiet the room sometimes. But they don't touch what's underneath. They don't heal. They don't teach.
Here's the shift: behavior is communication. That's it. That's the paradigm change.
Fear can look like defiance. Shame can look like silence. Anger can look like a kid daring you to stop him. The question isn't, "How do I end this behavior?" but "What is this behavior trying to tell me?"
The trauma-informed sequence that works is simple but not easy: safety first, then connection, then regulation. Only after those three can we teach skills, repair relationships, and move forward.
I should mention that some hesitate at the word "trauma," but in practice, it's just a clear-eyed way of naming the real forces shaping behavior. And here, a sequence born out of that approach teaches children that they're not problems to be managed, but people to be understood.
Leaders, This One's on You
Here's the catch: this can't just be one teacher in one classroom deciding to do things differently. Culture rises or falls with leadership priorities, and it lives or dies in the systems they build.
Too often, trauma-informed practices get introduced like patchwork: a workshop here, a policy tweak there. Without alignment, old habits creep back in. Staff mean well, but without reinforcement in hiring, onboarding, evaluation, they slip into survival mode.
Real change sticks when leaders embed it everywhere. When every new hire hears the same message: here, we respond to behavior as communication. When policies stop treating removal as the fix and start treating safety and connection as the foundation. When leaders measure not only test scores and budgets, but also staff wellbeing, school culture, and how safe children feel.
This matters now more than ever. One in five students has faced four or more ACEs. That's not a niche population. That's entire classrooms. Without systemic change, we're just rearranging chairs on a burning deck.
This Isn't Theory; There's Real Impact
And here's the good news: when adults make this shift, the outcomes improve.
San Francisco schools that introduced trauma-informed practices saw office referrals drop by nearly a third. Suspensions went down. Students stayed in classrooms, learning.
The American Academy of Pediatrics has called on schools nationwide to move away from exclusionary discipline and toward trauma-informed practices that support wellbeing and address root causes.
And The Massachusetts Center of Child Wellbeing & Trauma has found that organizations who make this shift see staff burnout fall, turnover drop, morale rise. A pattern is emerging: when adults stop reacting to behavior and start understanding it, everyone wins. Kids, staff, organizations.
We Could Choose Connection
Educators are often the first to notice when a child unravels. Sometimes the only adult. Without support, that weight is crushing. With the right tools, it's life-changing.
Marcus' story is not unique. Every community has children whose fear looks like defiance, whose silence hides need, whose behavior signals for help. When we respond differently, a single day—and sometimes a whole life—can change.
Picture schools where safety comes before suspension. Nonprofits where staff stay because they're supported to do the work well. Organizations that ask, not "What's wrong with you?" but "How can we help you, really?"
This is the paradigm shift American children need, from punishment to teaching. From burnout to resilience. From fragmented efforts to cultures rebuilt for healing.
It's also the work of Whole Child Initiative: walking alongside schools, nonprofits, and organizations to embed trauma-responsive practices into the fabric of care—not a one-off program, but a culture. Because every child and adult deserves to be seen, heard, and given the chance to thrive.
Andrea Poehl is a trainer at Whole Child Initiative, which equips organizations to create trauma-responsive cultures where children, families, and teams can heal, learn, and grow.
SOURCE Whole Child Initiative
          
		  
          
        
               
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