Seeing the Whole Story: Why Trauma-Informed Practice Matters
By Jennifer Achari
In my early days working in alternative education, I remember hearing staff say the goal of a CARE school was “to keep kids off the streets.” The unspoken message seemed to be that our responsibility ended when school did, that we were just expected to keep students occupied enough to keep bigger problems at bay. And often, it felt like that was all we were managing to do. There was violence, theft, and weapons; trauma was present, woven deeply into the experiences of both our students and staff. Eventually, it all exploded into a riot that made national news.
Staff left the profession, burnt out, disillusioned, and heartbroken. And I couldn’t stop thinking, there had to be a better way.
That moment set me on a path to understanding the deep connections between trauma and learning, behaviour and wellbeing. I started researching what was happening elsewhere, what we knew about trauma-impacted students, and how schools could do more than just react. That’s what led me to begin my PhD in trauma-informed alternative education.
Of all the language I’ve heard to describe young people in this field, one phrase that made headlines stays with me: “broken babies.” It resonates so deeply within me because I was once a “broken” baby.
My own childhood was shaped by trauma. My mother, overwhelmed and unsupported, gave me up when I was four months old. I spent the first year of my life in various homes along with my 3-year-old brother. However, the trauma didn’t end there. My early years were chaotic, my childhood was filled with abuse and neglect in all forms, and I spent time during my first year of high school living in a home for those escaping domestic violence. The neighbourhood I grew up in was marked by violence, addiction, and instability. My family relied on foodbanks, local charities, and church donations to meet our basic needs. I remember the many Christmases spent with our donation box of presents. I was a young person who was thankful for the support I received from local youth workers at the shelter and drop-in centres, and for my school counsellors who supported me in the student services department.
But that is not where the story ends. My story is not a sad story because I believed I could rewrite it, and education helped me do just that. Today, my life is defined not by trauma, but by resilience and hope.
This is why trauma-informed practice matters so deeply to me. It’s not just theory, it’s personal. And it's also practical. It gives us tools to understand behaviour, not punish it. Instead of asking “what’s wrong with you?” we learn to ask, “what happened to you?” That simple shift changes everything.
At Youth Futures, we’re now embedding trauma-informed practice across everything we do; from our Community School Hubs to Homelessness Services, leadership, and staff wellbeing. We’re building it into our policies, our spaces, our relationships, and our daily decisions.
One of the clearest examples is what happens when a student is expelled due to violence. We acknowledge the seriousness of the behaviour, but we also ask why. Often, we keep the door open and invite them back after hours or after some time has passed to complete their certificate. That moment of welcome can be life changing. It says: “You’re still worth it. Your future still matters.”
My dream is for WA to lead the way in trauma-informed alternative education. Through my doctoral work, I’ve aimed to help fill a national gap, to identify what policy and practice should look like in a consistent, effective trauma-informed approach, one that could work across every state, in every alternative education setting.
This isn’t just about programs. It’s about people, young people who have every right to feel safe, supported, and seen. I believe we can build schools and services that don’t just contain trauma during the school’s hours but ultimately transform it for lasting change.
Because every young person deserves the chance to write a new story. I’m living proof that it’s possible.