I‘d like to tell you a story about a time I saw a huge group of people grok* the ideas behind SE®. It was in 2008 during my first of two trips to rural Democratic Republic of Congo. More than 200 people were sitting around a massive mango tree while Toss Mukwa, a pivotal figure in the grassroots peace and reconciliation movement, announced: “Our friend Twig has come from far away to help us understand why we're feeling so bad and what we can do about it.” As the translation reached me my heart sank and my mind balked. “What can I say that will help— here?”
* grok: to understand something thoroughly, intuitively, and with empathy.
There I was, in front of people who'd weathered events that created what the UN repeatedly called “the worst place in the world for women and children.” Part of my mandate as a trauma consultant for Toss's organization was to help sensitize people in these former war areas to the dynamics of trauma. Principally, I sought to help them identify where trauma complicates their efforts at community cooperation: local food production, interpersonal relations, and security (particularly the security of women).
In other words, I was supposed to explain how unresolved survival reactions degrade free choice and compel angry, frightened, and overwhelmed behaviors. I was to show how understanding this response can increase mutuality and support while decreasing enmity and strife. If I could quickly explain how to “discharge” incomplete survival reactions so people could feel better— well, that would be appreciated too! The task was huge. I was totally engaged, but terrified.
I immediately let go of our “First World” metaphors. The idea that trauma “feels like having the brake and accelerator on at the same time” is meaningless to people without cars. Instead, I acted out a story of being chased up into the tree by a dangerous predator. With each part I called to the crowd: “What's happening inside of me now?” They responded:
“You're angry!”
“You want to run!”
“You're too afraid to move.”
In this way we went through the salient parts of stress response, acknowledging that everyone has these responses and that they happen involuntarily, protecting us from danger as best they can.
I asked: “What about feeling shaky afterwards?”
They yelled back: “It's bad! You should stop it.” But as we continued the investigation a man called out, “no, the shakiness is just part of it.” He declared: “It's all God's wisdom in the body! The shaking is part of it.”
We worked through it together until it all made sense: how the running, the fighting, the freezing— even the shaking— are part of the involuntary process that helps us survive danger.
Next I asked: “What happens if this process doesn't complete? What if something stops it, like you can't fight back or you don't let the shaking happen?”
A woman pointed upwards, answering: “You stay up in the tree!”
I spent the afternoon alone, wondering if anything I had said had actually made any sense for them. That night during dinner, Toss and his partners shared reports of conversations they'd had with people after our group meeting. The responses were all summed up by one story:
A mother told Toss: “Twig explained why I hit my kids. My husband hits me at night and in our tradition I'm not allowed to fight back. The next day I'm still mad and I take it out on my children. I need to find another way to come down out of the tree.”
And I say, don't we all? Don't we all.
Best,
Twig
Author Anthony “Twig” Wheeler, BA, SEP, AHE, is a cultural animator specializing in the restoration of a participatory relationship between humans and their nature. In 2008 Twig helped initiate an ongoing project to adapt psychobiologically based trauma treatment protocols to communities in support of peace and reconciliation efforts in war-torn DR Congo.