Collective Healing for and with Young People

by Erica Pernell

We know that stress and trauma live in the body. We also know that stress and trauma can pass from one generation to another. If stress and trauma can live in the body, and can be passed from one generation to the next, so can healing. If stress and trauma can occur collectively, healing can also happen collectively. As Angela Davis said, “We know that we have to liberate minds as well as liberate society.”

“We know that we have to liberate minds as well as liberate society.”

— Angela Davis

Throughout my first several years working in independent schools, I felt like I was starting over with my identity development. I felt like I was not smart enough, not capable enough. When I tried to make change for justice at the school and the school didn’t change, I felt like I was not strategic or influential enough. When I struggled to keep up with the overwhelming demands of grading, and emails, and coaching multiple sports, I blamed myself for not having the energy to do it all. I met some amazing people, and there were also parents, administrators, and colleagues who cast doubt on my teaching skills, my knowledge of science, my communication skills, and my ability to collaborate. I was made to feel incompetent simply because I did not subscribe to the polite culture of silence that existed at the school.

While working at the school, I also experienced an extreme amount of sudden loss in my personal life: I unexpectedly lost my grandmother, my grandfather, my cousin, and my close friend in the span of 5 years. I fell into a deep depression unlike any I had ever experienced. It became hard just to make it through each day. I knew that I had to find a way to heal.

Reprieve spaces: places or situations where people can take temporary shelter from the ravages of white supremacy.
— Resmaa Menakem

Reprieve spaces were critical to my healing. Resmaa Menakem defines reprieve spaces as “places or situations where people can take temporary shelter from the ravages of white supremacy.” Part of my role involved helping to facilitate the affinity groups for students of color at the school. We held circles and shared our thoughts and we played games. We talked about our families, our struggles, and our victories. I was able to tell students the messages I wish I had heard at their age. The students taught me how to be unapologetic. 

Connecting to nature allowed me the space to get to know myself again and to process the painful things that were happening. Walking, hiking, kayaking, or just laying in a hammock under trees, I would look for messages in nature about how to survive each week. I would see what the animals around me could teach me. 

The final key to my healing was community. I formed a tightknit group of friends with other employees of color at my school and at other schools across the country. We gathered yearly for the People of Color Conference. We found support and validation in Facebook groups. We provided joy, laughter, and fellowship for one another. 

When I saw the Black Lives Matter movement grow to become the biggest movement in our nation’s history, something changed within me. The Black@ accounts broke me open as I saw how greatly independent schools have failed BIPOC students. I needed to focus on my own healing again, and to promote healing for others. I needed to go to a place designed for us and by us. I realized that I didn’t want the majority of my job to be something I needed to escape from. I wanted to center my people, to connect with the land, and to foster healing. There were several weeks of worry and anxiety about how I would find a job that would allow me to make a living while fulfilling my purpose. When you are inside institutions that work to suppress the very core of who you are, it becomes difficult to believe there is another world out there. 

Hiking with students at the semester school.

My partner emailed me a job description for an outdoor-education focused semester school where I would be able to once again work with Boston Public School students. Located on 1100 acres of wilderness, the semester school emphasizes nature, community, and wellness through outdoor experiential education. The job paid much less than my independent school administrator salary but it checked all the boxes for my healing and wellness. I worried about paying my mortgage and my bills, but I had to bet on myself. 

Less than a year into my new job, I feel like a new version of myself. I know my worth, and my work is completely aligned with my purpose. I am no longer experiencing headaches and stomachaches and the tightening of my throat–all physical symptoms of stress that became normal to me when I worked in independent schools. I continue to try to impact independent schools as much as possible through consulting and presenting in conferences and trainings while filling my cup through my full-time work.

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation and that is an act of political warfare.”
— Audre Lorde

We have a limited amount of energy and time in this life. There is so much good work to be done within ourselves and within our communities of color. As Audre Lorde said “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation and that is an act of political warfare.” It is always ok to take a break from battling directly with the benefactors and beneficiaries of white supremacy to focus on your own healing and your own communities of people of color. It is essential to stop pushing on institutions that reluctantly tolerate us, and form new institutions that celebrate and center us.

1. Acknowledge what pains you.
2. Share your pain with others.
3. Explore what heals you.
4. Bring your healing actions into community.

More than anything, I want all of us to start and continue our healing journeys. On my journey to healing, young people light the way. They remind me to be authentic, to be unapologetic, to be humble, to be free. Healing journeys start with acknowledging what has hurt you, what has pained you and harmed you, and sharing that truth with yourself, and with others in community. Sharing stories of pain and harm requires immense courage and vulnerability, whether we share our stories on big stages, or acknowledge our pain with just one other person. Sharing our pain and owning our narrative is empowering. The next step is to find what heals you. Spend as much time as you can seeking out and doing what feels healing, validating, and aligned for you. Give yourself permission to spend time on things that make you feel good. Once you find the healing actions that work for you, celebrate yourself, and, when it feels right, take those healing actions into community. Help others find what heals them. That is what has healed, and continues to heal, me.

This blog post is part of the #31DaysIBPOC Blog Series, a month-long movement to feature the voices of indigenous and teachers of color as writers and scholars. Please CLICK HERE to read yesterday’s blog post by Dr. Kim Parker (and be sure to check out the link at the end of each post to catch up on the rest of the blog series).