Upstairs Brain
About three years ago I wanted to quit teaching. I was in a slump after training for a marathon for eighteen weeks and not getting what I wanted out of the race. I was overwhelmed with a large class size and a lot of need. Sean and I had started to talk about moving back to Washington and I was torn about how much emotional investment I already had in my job in Oregon. Our kids were 3 and 5, the age where they’d barely grown out of naps, and getting them to sleep at night seemed to last several hours. I was exhausted. I knew I was not okay because even though I would hold it together throughout the day at school, I would melt down in the evenings on a regular basis. I started to fantasize about working at Powell’s Books and the joy I would find in matching customers to the perfect book for their needs. My amazing teaching partner, Patty, would bring me a London Fog from Starbucks every Tuesday morning to brighten my day (and as a futile attempt at keeping me around).
Somehow, in the midst of everything, I came across the book “Fostering Resilient Learners: Strategies for Creating a Trauma-Sensitive Classroom,” by Kristin Souers and Pete Hall and everything changed. It changed my teaching, it changed my parenting, and it changed me. During that time, when I journaled my thoughts about this book, I concluded with “Finding this book was like watching an episode of "This is Us" because the whole time you just say over and over again "Yes. This! This is so important! I want everyone to be seeing this. Yes. This again. Wow. Yes. This again."
For one, the book helped me understand what trauma really is, how it affects students, and what it does to the brain. I had always thought the word trauma described major catastrophic life events, but instead I began to define it as “anything that is too difficult for someone to cope with.” Once I understood this definition, I started to see my students (and my own children) with more clarity through the lens of everyday anxieties, stresses, worries, and just having not-ok moments. Most adults can cope with these, but kids need strategies. And this starts with understanding what’s happening in their brain.
I had always taught about the brain, but never the way that was described in this book. I had taught that there are different parts of the brain and each part is responsible for a different job. I drew an anchor chart with the different parts labeled and their jobs color-coded, and sometimes it stuck but other times kids got lost in the diagrams and colors and big fancy words like amygdala and prefrontal cortex. “Fostering Resilient Learners” puts the brain into meaningful terms in a way that makes sense. The authors refer to the "upstairs brain" and the "downstairs brain" (which comes from Daniel J. Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson, authors of “The Whole Brain Child” and “No Drama Discipline.”) The upstairs brain is responsible for thinking logically and it also houses our soothing and calming strategies when we feel stress, worry, or anxiety. The downstairs brain is where that stress, worry and anxiety comes from. In traumatic moments, we live in the downstairs brain. We live in the mode of flight, fright, or freeze. Living there for too long actually changes the make-up of our brain.
Now, I teach about the upstairs and downstairs brain every year to my class. I teach them that the downstairs brain isn't a bad thing - it's important that our brain tells us to respond if there's a fire or danger - but when our downstairs brain takes over and doesn't let the upstairs brain help out, then we have strong reactions. The authors call it "flipping our lid." I give example after example of upstairs brain and downstairs brain situations. I say things like “Wow, that was a really great way to show off your upstairs brain!” or “Let’s figure out how we can get back into our upstairs brain here.” Sometimes I say, “Oh man, I almost went into my downstairs brain there but whew! A couple deep breaths and I’m back upstairs!” One year I was so excited about the upstairs and downstairs brain that I asked my team if I could go teach a lesson about it to all of their classes. Any time I ran into a first grader that year, we spoke the same brain language and smiled about our shared knowledge.
Last year I read “No Drama Discipline,” which uses the same brain language in the context of parenting. What I learned from the combination of the books is the power of flexibility. I had always thought that consistency was crucial and that consistency meant “When I give these instructions, you will follow them. When you don’t follow them, you will have a consequence.” In teaching and parenting, that mentality leaves no room for flexibility. It leaves no room for “What’s really going on here?” or “Is there a deeper reason, perhaps even a trauma response, that is preventing this child from following these instructions?” Learning to be flexible in the classroom meant letting go of “All kids are required to sit on the carpet this way” or “Every child must complete the work this way” and instead asking questions like “What will help this child best access learning?” or “How can I meet this child’s changing needs?” Learning to be flexible at home meant responding to my own kids’ meltdowns with how they needed me the most. Alexa always needed a distraction. Jenna always needed to be held. I discovered that leaning in to give comfort during a fit doesn’t reinforce the behavior, it actually sends the message that it’s okay to be not-okay. We are all not-okay sometimes. Even adults have downstairs brain moments. The important part is learning what to do in those moments and how to climb back upstairs.
Immediately after explaining about trauma, “Fostering Resilient Learners” dives into teacher self-care. It talks about how we are in a profession of caring for others and serving others. It validates how hard it is. Reading that was the first time in a long time that I felt understood. These authors seemed to know how hard it is for teachers to pull from the depths of our heart and the depths of our brain to make the classroom work. They seemed to know how hard it is to make sure that everyone is taken care of and taught and how much pressure we put on ourselves to get it right and how upset we are with ourselves when we don't get it right, especially when we feel like we totally could've gotten it right but we just failed. There was a whole chapter on grace, and the book ended with a “self-care challenge.”
When that tough year was over and we landed in Washington, I had a smaller class size and discovered that first grade is what I was made for. I found strength in balance, prayer, community, and purpose. I no longer fantasized about other careers (although I still like to give book recommendations). This year I’m working on my National Board Certification.
At home, bedtime can be still be rough sometimes, and the other night I started to lose it with “Seriously?!? Why do I have to ask you SIXTEEN times to brush your teeth?! Why can’t you just do it the FIRST TIME?!” Jenna looked at me, put her hand gently on my shoulder, and calmly said “Deep breath, Mama.”
We are about to enter into unknown territory. Our kids are starting school in a way that no kid in history has ever been forced to start school. Trauma has surfaced in the form of a global pandemic, in uncertainty about how to find truth, in a climate of political divisiveness, in trying to break down patterns of racism ingrained in our society, and in not knowing how this school year will take shape. Staying in our upstairs brains in the midst of everything is harder than ever. For us, for our students, for our children, for everyone. Take care of yourself. Don’t give up. Discover what drives you. Find your people. Go to therapy. Pray. Go on a social media diet. Go for a run. Get a lot of sleep. Start healthy eating habits. Focus on what gives you life. Give yourself grace. Reach out for support when you need help. The authors of FRL would say, “It’s OK to be not-OK,” and it definitely is, but let’s not live in that. Let’s find out what we need to do to climb back upstairs, and then let’s reach out to help those around us do it too.
