Intro Summary
I am continuing to dive deep into what this current society takes for trauma. Where trauma is cited for everything, from tough conversations to classroom discipline. Where we are mistaking discomfort for damage, damage to self-esteem, to pride, to mental health. But I ask again, are we really protecting our children, or are we preventing them from growing stronger, more resilient? This week’s post follows up on last week’s reflections about shielding students from failure, and why doing so may be doing more harm than good.
Let Me Continue Where I Left Off…
In last week’s post, I shared my shock upon arriving in Canada and being told that giving a student a grade below 50, even with clear evidence of poor performance, was a no-no. I quickly learned that our system is designed to shield students from the pain of failure. But is that truly helping them… or is it quietly harming them?
This week, I want to go a little deeper and highlight some of my real-life experiences and cultural contrasts that shaped my philosophy as a Jamaican, on resilience, success, and mental strength.
We Grew Up on Competition, Not Coddling
Let’s put aside corporal punishment for a moment. I know, as soon as you hear Jamaican many of you think, yes, they got a whole lot of whipping in schools and homes. That is usually one question my students always ask me as soon as they learned I am Jamaican. (Miss, did you get flogging or did you flog your students?) We know now that many of those practices were in fact abusive and inhumane. Give and take a little swishing that worked for some of us.
That said, growing up in Jamaica wasn’t easy, but much of what we did prepared us mentally and emotionally.
We weren’t coddled. We were challenged.
We had to rise up and stand out. Whether it was on the sports field, at track meets, or in the classroom, the goal was to excel. To improve our rank, to be our personal best, and to show the strong metal we’re made of. (You have seen our athletes on the track of course). No wonder one of our slogans was and still is, “we likkle, but we tallawah”. (We are small but strong)
At both the primary and high school levels, the house system was the heartbeat of our schools’ cultural id. Inter-house rivalry wasn’t just encouraged, it was celebrated. Students wore their house colours with pride, whether that house came last or first. Teachers cheered like coaches. Everyone pushed harder to win, and even though the competition could get intense at times, it taught us the value of belonging, discipline, and determination.
When We Tried to Recreate it … Resistance
A few of us teachers tried recreating the house system here in Canada at one of the schools I taught in. We planned events: sports days, spelling bees, even house points for good behaviour and attendance.
But we were met with resistance.
Some colleagues felt it was "too stressful" for the students. That competition might harm their mental health. Make them feel less than, ashamed when they don’t win.
Frankly, I was baffled. What? Unheard of!
When did striving become a bad word?
Handled well, competition isn’t toxic. It’s transformational! It can build community, ignite motivation, and teach children how to win and lose gracefully. These are not optional soft skills. These are life skills that we need to build, that our students need to face the realities of the world out there.
We’re not talking about shaming kids. We’re talking about inspiring them.
Accountability Was Not Abuse
When exam time came, it was serious business in Jamaica.
We had external invigilators for national assessments. Even end-of-term internal exams were formal and demanding. And by the way, it was not unusual for students who have been absent from school for a long while, to suddenly show up for exams.
Back in my day as a student, way back, after each exam, a list went up with everyone’s name, grades, and class position, from 1st to last. Yes, it stung if you came in near the bottom. But more often than not, it lit a fire in many students. For me, when I came 2nd or 3rd, I worked hard to be 1st again. We wanted to climb higher. We wanted to do better next time.
Compare that to what we see now. Some don’t even want the students to be tested.
Today’s "Trauma" Looks Very Different
Today, some students aren’t allowed to see certain books on slavery or injustice. They’re said to be too traumatizing. A Grade 7 or 8 student can’t view an image of an enslaved person shackled during the Middle Passage, or a ship of enslaved people packed like sardines in a tin (although the sardines in tins are very few now), but that same child watches George Floyd die in real time under a police officer’s knee—over and over again—-on TikTok, Facebook and the daily news. Same child watches with horror, so many killed, maimed, roughed up all over the internet and maybe even on their streets and inside their own homes.
We have in fact removed the controlled environment of truth and dialogue from the classroom, but the unfiltered realities are still flooding the lives of our students.
A bug flies in the classroom and wow! trauma.
A teacher reminds a student about a missed assignment—trauma.
A rule is enforced by the teacher—trauma.
What we are doing is: watering down expectations, avoiding accountability, and naming it protection.
So, Tell Me: Are we building resilience in our students or Breeding Fragility?
Let me be clear: Resilience does not mean suffering in silence or enduring abuse.
Resilience means:
Learning how to cope with life’s inevitable "no"
Adapting to discomfort without actually falling apart
Failing or falling… and getting back up
If schools no longer help students develop these tools, where will they get them?
🗣️ Let’s Talk About It
Are we confusing trauma with toughness?
How can we protect children without paralyzing their growth?
How do we teach resilience without risking discomfort?
💬 I would love to hear your thoughts. What are you seeing in your classrooms or communities? What’s your experience with how we handle failure, discomfort, and growth in today’s schools?