The first week of school is supposed to be a fresh start. New uniforms, sharpened pencils, the hum of possibility in the air. But if you look closely, you will notice the child who lingers at the back of the room, avoiding eye contact. The one who startles when the door slams. The one whose homework is never done — not because they don’t care, but because home is a place of chaos, not quiet.

I have met these children. So have you. They sit in our classrooms, ride our buses, walk our hallways. Some have lived through more loss by age 10 than many of us will face in a lifetime. Others carry daily burdens that leave little energy for long division or essay writing. And yet, we measure them only by the numbers on a test.

A trauma-informed, whole-child approach dares to do something different. It recognises that a child is more than their academic performance. It says: “I see the person in front of me, their fears, their strengths, their story and I will teach them with all of it in mind.”

Trauma changes you. It changes what you prioritise, how you respond to stress, and how safe the world feels. Neuroscience tells us that chronic stress rewires the brain, often triggering survival responses instead of learning responses. This is why a student who appears “defiant” may be actually communicating fear. A student who “isn’t trying” may be conserving energy just to make it through the day.

When schools adopt a trauma-informed lens, the question shifts from “What’s wrong with this child?” to “What has this child experienced, and what do they need to succeed?” That small shift in thinking changes everything, from classroom management to curriculum design.

The whole-child approach goes hand-in-hand with this. It means nurturing the social, emotional, mental and physical wellbeing of every student alongside their academic growth.

It’s not “soft” on learning; it’s strategic. Because a child who feels safe, valued and supported is far more likely to meet and exceed academic expectations.

We have seen the results elsewhere: fewer suspensions, better attendance, stronger school communities. But the change is more than numbers. It’s in the student who starts raising their hand again. The one who goes from silent to smiling. The one who begins to believe — maybe for the first time — that school is a place where they belong.

Bermuda has an opportunity and a responsibility to lead in this space. That means more professional development for educators on how trauma shapes behaviour, how to respond without escalating, and how to build trust with the most vulnerable students. It means policies that embed mental health supports into the daily fabric of school life. And it means inviting parents, caregivers and community members into the process, so our children hear the same message of safety and high expectations wherever they go.

Every child carries a story. Some are light and full of possibility; others are heavy with hardship. We cannot change what has already happened in their lives. But we can change what happens next.

When we see beyond the grade book and teach the whole child, we do more than improve test scores. We create the conditions for resilience, healing and hope. And that is the foundation not only for better students, but for a stronger Bermuda.

• Chardonaé Rawlins is a child and adolescent mental health specialist, and the founder of Simply Bloom Bermuda, which is dedicated to advancing child and adolescent mental health through education, advocacy and community partnerships. To learn more about trauma-informed and whole child approaches, visit www.simplybloombda.com or follow @simply.bloombda on Instagram