By Hannah Love
Some days, working as a school social worker, I struggle to see how I’m really making a difference in this world. The systems we work within are so complex, and they’ve failed so many people, especially students with disabilities and their families. Sometimes, it feels like I’m just putting Band-Aids on problems that are way bigger than me. I sit in meetings, write reports, and offer support to students. But I often wonder, is this enough? How can I change a system that has historically hurt so many people?
But then I remember: leading with love—choosing compassion, cultural humility, and trauma-informed care—is itself an act of resistance. In institutions shaped by colonization, white supremacy, ableism, and capitalism, choosing to slow down, listen deeply, and show up with care is revolutionary. Trauma-informed care and cultural humility aren’t just practices — they’re acts of resistance against systems that tell people they are disposable. This approach is not just about individual care; it’s about shifting the culture of our schools, our healthcare, and our communities, one relationship at a time.
Trauma-informed care is often talked about as a professional best practice—and it is. But it’s also political. It pushes back against the legacy of systems that have historically pathologized, criminalized, or excluded people for how they express pain, difference, or need.
Trauma in schools can look different among different students. It can look like a student acting out or having difficulty self-regulating. It can also look like a student who keeps their head down and keeps to themselves. We never know what or how trauma impacts behavior, so it’s crucial that school staff are trauma-informed to support all students.
When we approach a student’s behavior with curiosity rather than control, we are resisting systems that would rather suspend than support. When we center a caregiver’s voice in an IEP meeting, we’re rejecting the idea that professionals always know best. When we adapt our language, our space, or our expectations to meet someone’s access needs, we’re saying: You belong here, exactly as you are.
This is how we challenge systems that have normalized exclusion, surveillance, and gatekeeping, especially for disabled, neurodivergent, and multiply marginalized people. Leading with love, centering the voices and lived experiences of our clients and patients, and practicing trauma-informed care are powerful ways that we as healthcare providers can actively resist the harmful systems that have long caused harm. When we ground our work in love, compassion and intentionality, we create accessible spaces where everyone feels seen, valued, and truly cared for. Because even when we can’t change the system overnight, we can change how we show up within it.
