How Trauma Impacts Kids’ Behavior: Lessons From Caring For A Rescued Abused Child In Yunnan
The steamed corn was just passed around at lunch when I saw the yellow yolk seep through the cuff of Xiao Man’s faded blue jacket. The 7-year-old had hidden a raw egg from breakfast in her pocket, and it cracked when she reached for her chopsticks. She froze mid-reach, then curled into herself, both hands clamped over her pocket like she was waiting for a blow. I’ve worked at this small children’s home for abused and abandoned kids in rural Yunnan for four years, so I didn’t rush over. I just finished passing the bowl of pickled radish to the boy next to me, wiped my hands on my apron, and walked over slow, keeping my hands down where she could see them.
Xiao Man came to us three months ago, after a neighbor reported her uncle to child protection. Her mom died in a motorcycle crash when she was 2, her dad left for Guangdong for work and never came back. She lived with her uncle, who did construction, and locked her in the back shed of his house when he left for work most days. Neighbors said he’d beat her if she cried for food, or broke anything by accident. When child protection workers pulled her out, she was 10 pounds underweight, with a broken wrist that hadn’t been set right, and hadn’t been to school a single day in her life.
Most new volunteers want to fix her right away. They’ll kneel down, open their arms, say “you’re safe now, you can come here.” She just backs into the wall and won’t move. One volunteer tried to get her to talk about what happened, asked her if her uncle hurt her, and Xiao Man bit her own hand hard enough to draw blood. So when I got to her that lunchtime, I didn’t mention the egg, didn’t mention her flinching, didn’t try to hug her. I just pulled a crumpled plastic bag out of my apron pocket, held it out between us. “I’ll wrap this for you. After lunch, you can go wash your jacket. I have an extra pink one in my closet that fits you, no holes.” She didn’t say anything, just handed me the broken egg. I threw it away, and didn’t say another word about it the rest of lunch.
That’s the thing no one tells you when you start caring for kids like Xiao Man. All the big, warm gestures we think are helpful—hugs, big declarations of safety, forcing them to talk about what happened—usually just scare them more. A kid who’s spent years learning that any sudden movement or attention can lead to hurt doesn’t believe you when you say you’re safe. They believe what you do, over and over, small thing after small thing.
We don’t force her to sit in the circle for story time. If she wants to stand in the corner and play with a smooth rock she found by the stream, that’s fine. We just leave a little spot open on the rug next to me in case she changes her mind. We keep a jar of hard candies on the lowest shelf of the kitchen cabinet, and we never ask who took one if it’s gone. We don’t yell if she hides bread in her mattress, we just change the sheets every two weeks like we do for everyone else, and don’t mention the crumbs. When the other kids tease her for hoarding erasers, we tell them everyone gets to keep their own things safe, end of conversation.
Last week, it rained all afternoon, and I stayed late grading math papers in my classroom. I looked up and Xiao Man was standing in the doorway, her socks soaked through. She didn’t say anything, just twisted the hem of her jacket. I didn’t stand up, I didn’t ask what she needed. I just pulled the extra wooden stool I keep by my desk closer to the heater, poured a mug of warm ginger tea from my thermos, set it on the edge of the desk between us, and went back to grading. She stood there for ten minutes, then inched over and sat down on the very edge of the stool. After another ten minutes, she reached over and touched the frayed cuff of my sweater, then pulled her hand back like she’d burned it. I didn’t look up, didn’t say anything. She stayed for an hour, until the rain slowed down, then got up and left. She didn’t take the tea, but she didn’t spill it either.
A lot of parents and teachers who follow our home’s social media ask me what lessons they can take from this, even if they don’t care for kids who’ve been through severe abuse. Most of the time, we jump straight to correcting confusing behavior: we call a kid greedy for hoarding snacks, dramatic for flinching, naughty for lashing out. But almost always, the behavior isn’t the problem. The fear behind the behavior is the problem.
Next time your kid does something that doesn’t make sense, stop for 10 seconds before you react. Ask yourself what fear might be driving this, instead of what rule they broke. If they pull away from your hug, don’t chase them. Just say “I’ll be on the couch if you want to come sit later.” If they hoard things in their closet or desk, don’t take their stash away. Just say “You can keep all of that, and we can get more whenever you want.” You don’t have to fix everything in one day. You don’t even have to get them to talk about what’s scaring them. You just have to show up, the same way, every day, no big gestures, no demands.
It’s only been three months. Xiao Man still flinches when someone drops a plate, she still hides things in her pockets, she still hasn’t said more than three words in a row to anyone. Last week, when the cook dropped a wok and it clattered so loud the windows shook, she crawled under the dining table and stayed there for 20 minutes. We just left a saltine cracker on the edge of the table, and didn’t bother her. She came out on her own when her heart stopped racing. Two days ago, she brought me a crumpled piece of drawing paper with a lopsided brown dog on it. She set it on my desk and ran out. I taped it to the wall right next to my desk. We don’t know what the next year will bring. We don’t know if she’ll ever talk more, if she’ll ever not flinch when someone moves too fast. But right now, that’s okay. We’re just taking it one meal, one rainstorm, one drawing at a time.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » How Trauma Impacts Kids’ Behavior: Lessons From Caring For A Rescued Abused Child In Yunnan