A Message To My Students I Never Got To Say Goodbye To

Particularly this one SEN class with M. (and his friend M. who used to skip his lessons and join ours), A. and A., J. – the sweetheart – and C. who might never be able to read this post.

I miss you dearly and wish I could embrace you in a big hug. In fact, I missed you already in July – not the school, but you. I am very upset I won't see you in September.

When things end abruptly, our brains perceive it as a life threat. This is because our brain is a prediction machine and it actually hurts it to be "a bad prediction machine" (threat hormones rule most of us). We get stuck in that state because the brain is trying to figure out some sort of strategies. Most of them be useless (too primitive) in modern settings: rage, rigid refusal, mental block, self-comforting (such as phones, drugs and alcohol abuse), and seeking safety in ideologies, especially radical ones (such as A.'s racism). All these are coping mechanisms – not the truth, not the path that will get you far in life. Before you know it, they become your identity; what a waste of your authentic potential!

Any new familiar experience (in your case another teacher, another request, another task, another demand) will be perceived exactly through that lens of threat, deepening and cementing your coping mechanisms. The brain will also protect its strategies, so almost no other person can reteach your nervous system without your full awareness of what's happening. So this is where language comes into the picture: by having the language to these processes we can navigate through situations. Name the emotions, learn the vocabulary, understand the meanings of abstract things (things we can't see or touch). Read. Read high-quality stuff. Feed your brain with more options to build its strategies on before it becomes addicted to its own patterns. Truth is the only thing worth fighting for. Our thoughts are just thoughts, not truth. Truth is always something good because it heals, it sets you free, it nurtures your prowess.

So the next time you bully C., whose parents abandoned them (which is a profound trauma to the nervous system), perhaps you could zoom out a bit, see the bigger picture, mind your own business and be kind – everyone is fighting their own battles.

Remember: you are not your brain, you are not your trauma, you are not your circumstances, you are not your diagnosis. You are what you're still building. Choose your building blocks wisely.

I love you. Big hug.