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Viewpoint

For me, the sandbag metaphor takes on
added nuance in the larger context of trauma,
especially when one focuses on students and
educators. Grief caused by death is but one
form that trauma can take. We have trauma
everywhere, especially in the waning of the
pandemic (although COVID-19 still persists).
We don’t have to look far to see traumatized
adults and children in our schools that opened
and closed and reopened. Ponder the large
number of dysregulated students across the
educational landscape. Ponder the exhausted
educators. Ponder the families who have
experienced addictions and job losses and
homelessness, realities that students carry to
school with them, often in invisible backpacks. So, we are surrounded by sandbags. They are at our feet
everywhere we are.
However, one key for me is that, if one lifts the sandbag and it starts draining, it changes shape. And
the shape it takes moving forward is not uniform for those holding the sandbag. There is no ONE sandbag
and no ONE drainage system. Like students, each sandbag is different. And just as occurs with students,
how one navigates and moves forward from trauma differs.
Our sandbags may look similar on the ground, but, when lifted and draining, they look and feel
different. The bag’s shape, the speed of draining, the weight of the bag at any given time—these all vary.
And both children and adults must lift sandbags. Imagine a large sandbag’s ability to overpower a young
person; simply getting it off the ground is hard. Denial is easier. Just read Maya’s book to see the different
ways her two young sons dealt with their father’s suicide; at the conscious level, one of them ignored it
while the other tried to understand it.
For me, one key to appreciating the depth of the sandbag metaphor is to breakdown the item’s “life.”
• First, one needs to see the sandbag. Not everyone sees it; some folks just keep tripping. This
occurs among students; when we see students dysregulating, we need to understand that their behavior
(dysregulation) is the language of trauma.
• Second, even if one sees the sandbag, lifting it is tough for children and adults. We often need
help with getting the load into our arms (minds and bodies). And we need to know we need help. Yes,
people can offer help, but those with big sandbags can be helped only if they recognize the sandbags
before them and can reach out to others.
We can debate the role of educators in helping students see and deal with their sandbags. Some
educators do not see themselves as prepared for addressing social and emotional issues as they certainly
prefer to focus on content learning. But even those without specific trauma training will encounter trauma
among their students and, although they are not and should not be therapists, they can treat students in
ways that are therapeutic and trauma-responsive. How they can do that is beyond the scope of this article,
but here’s one key strategy: Educators who connect and communicate with students are better able to help
them.
• Third, how the sand drains differs from situation to situation and student to student and educator
to educator. That means homogenizing how we help those struggling with grief or trauma is a flawed
approach. We need to see people’s situations contextually. By way of example: Death of a parent is not
identical for all children. Some children know their parent is dying and, by coming to understand what is
occurring and the loss that is impending, they can discover ways of dealing with the realities they confront

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