Felipe* often struggled in class, doing his best to be anywhere but in front of a textbook, and recounting the many ways learning felt hard. I just can’t remember. It’s too hard. I can’t do it were his refrains again and again. Each time he uttered such a sentence, he started to believe he just wasn’t smart enough. He was at risk of failing his last school year before moving on to high school with his peers and friends. Struggling with an ADHD diagnosis in the midst of all this led him to believe it was all that mattered about him – he was the kid with ADHD who couldn’t do well in school.
At Mazatlan’s trauma-informed school, his teacher, Flo, noticed – not just his lowering grades, but the quiet frustration in his eyes. In a typical classroom setting, teachers won’t always have the time to address each student’s behavior in efforts to keep the whole class engaged and moving forward. In a trauma-informed school, like where Felipe attends, educators are trained to observe these tendencies and address them with a unique perspective and a great deal of empathy. Flo saw her student struggling, and instead of giving up on him, she invited him to try a different approach.
“We made a plan that Felipe would arrive at school 30 minutes early and together, we would sit down and review the subjects he found the most difficult,” Flo explained.
The next morning, Felipe showed up and, to Flo’s surprise, continued to show up a full hour before his day officially started every day after. He arrived eager and more focused, sharing what he was learning and coming to understand with his parents at home. When he talked about this time, he referred to it as his “new course,” and for the first time in a long time, Felipe believed he could learn; he saw he was capable, smart, and seen.
They continued to meet, and with Flo’s consistent support, structure, and belief in him, he passed the exam he once failed, rebuilding his confidence and sense of dignity. Felipe realized he was a smart young man, and he had a safe and predictable space to unpack all these thoughts and truly focus on his studies, without shame or fear.
Today, he looks ahead to the next year – his first year of high school – and doesn’t feel overwhelmed; he feels hopeful, knowing he has the tools and support he needs to face new challenges. This is the power of safe adults who hold space for vulnerable teens – they offer presence over pressure, connection over correction, and it changes everything.
