responses include elevated heart rate, perspiration, or a trembly voice. The emotional response typically includes feelings of anger or sadness. Freezing can include hiding or “shutting down” emotionally. Most of us know how we feel and can recall a time when we were very afraid. Many of us have recurrent fears or specific phobias, or even what we still may be afraid of or have a phobia about but why? What happens to the brain and our body when we hear a sound, see something that frightens us, smell a noxious agent, or are touched by something unexpected?
To understand how fear impacts our body, we first need to understand some basics of the brain. The brain has two different kinds of tasks that it must balance. On the one hand, it must keep our body running, making sure our metabolism is humming along. On the other hand, it must process information from our environment to make sure we are not under threat. The brain has an evolutionary drive to balance our metabolic functioning with information processing and fear responses (Woods and Khierbeck 2017). Since survival is a foundational evolutionary concern, the hypothalamus, responsible for fear-related emotional behaviors in animals and humans, is one of the oldest structures, deeply located in the brain (Hasan et al. 2019). It is responsible for fear-related emotional behaviors in animals and humans. It has evolved over time as have newer structures like the amygdala and medial prefrontal cortex. The amygdala is a hub in the brain for the expression and processing of threat and fear. When it receives cues – it receives visual, olfactory, auditory, and gustatory – it sends output to the prefrontal motor cortex (decision-making, mindful self-regulation) and the brainstem for behavioral and physiological output (freezing, fight, or flight). In other words, it tells our whole body whether we need to freeze, fight, or flee.
Fear and its associated behaviors have developed over millions of years so that we as humans could get through the day by listening, using our other senses, and being aware that danger was close, using our brain to adapt to threatening, dangerous situations. To survive, fear acquisition or fear learning had to happen quickly. There were no do-overs when the prehistoric wooly mammoth had you in his clutches. After one exposure to danger, humans and animals can form long-lasting fear memories and have the capacity to predict danger (Schiller et al. 2008). Fear learning is “rapid and resistant to modification” (Schiller et al. 2008) with the realization that constantly returning to dangerous situations is not advantageous to survival. The ability to flexibly analyze and adjust behavior is critical in unpredictable, changing environments. We are no longer living side-by-side with prehistoric predators, but we still maintain these evolutionary adaptations that influence how we respond to our environment, like school classrooms and within the four walls of home.
Our brain can be conditioned to automatically fear something: if we know a particular predator wants to make us his lunch, it is in our best interest not to waste valuable time and energy deciding whether we want to stick around and chat with him. However, in more nuanced circumstances – like our present-day world often presents – our brain can also update itself, leading to a concept known as fear safety. Thanks to research carried out in mice, scientists believe that we have a “courage switch” that can shift fear to courage: a mouse that would ordinarily freeze in response to a visual threat, can become bold, fiercely thumping its tail (Huberman 2018). A similar structure exists in humans.
Fear might be evolutionarily adaptive, but so too is courage.
Courage, the process of addressing your own fear to achieve a specific purpose, is not just something that can be learned, it is learning itself. Defined as “the act or experience of one that learns,” learning also means “the modification of a behavioral tendency by experience” (Merriam-Webster n.d.).
Fear is a learned association between at least two things that are meant to be adaptive for us in an effort for minimizing exposure to danger. Rather than having to constantly expend energy to relearn what is dangerous or safe, we preserve fear memories and fear learning. However, our brain has the capacity for fear extinction and fear reversal, which allows us to gain cognitive control over our fears. In other words, your brain wants to keep you safe but not afraid. You can use emotional awareness and self-regulation to calm yourself and unlearn fear, using breathing techniques and having a courageous mindset.
What is the difference between a classroom governed by fear and a courageous classroom? While a fearful classroom is focused on student ability, a courageous classroom prioritizes learning for and from the students who are valued for their potential. And what makes that difference? The teacher. As noted psychologist, Carol Dweck writes, “Every student has something to teach me” (Dweck 2014/2015). The underlying principle of a courageous classroom is belief in the capacity for students and teachers to be courageous in their learning and teaching.
Dr. Janet's Story
This book is a collaboration between two professionals with different experiences with and viewpoints on education. I (Dr. Janet) am not a teacher but a psychiatrist who usually sees kids who are not progressing in school and/or who have mental health issues impacting their ability to focus, learn information, or get along with their peers. As they grapple with underlying trauma, I am motivated by a desire to assist them as they face their own reality. My voice in this book is evidence-based, providing the neuroscience of fear and courage while sharing my own personal stories of finding my own courage. As the mother of four daughters, I respect teachers who, while raising their own families, skillfully and selflessly taught mine.
Jed's Story
As Dr. Janet's co-author, I (Jed) bring my almost-two-decade-long experience as a teacher and a direct voice of my own trauma, in the manner of a speaking wound, “the trauma born by an Other that speaks to the wound of the healer” (Dutro and Bien 2014). I share raw accounts of the difficulties of many of my students to illustrate the challenging experiences of trauma and fear that students and teachers bring into the classroom. These stories are the heart and soul of this book. They are told in a personal narrative format. I am more of a story teller than a researcher, so the tone of the book may feel a bit different when I chime in. The students I write about are the ones who above all need(ed) a culture of safety within their classroom walls. The retelling of their stories is multi-purpose. One, to let other teachers know they are not alone in the work. We all have students with lots of trauma that we must talk about so we can figure out how to help them best. Two, talking about the needs of our students helps us to identify the strategies we need for assisting and teaching them. Three, talking about the effects of their trauma on their learning helps us to see where our own education fell short in preparing us for this profession. As a point of caution here, some of the stories may create deep grief for you. You may cry, you may cuss. You may even get mad at me because I didn't handle the situation like I should have. I admit, I wish I could have a rerun with some of these students as I have learned more now than I knew then. Some of the stories may be triggers for you as you process and navigate the waters of your own childhood trauma. Lord knows I have had my fair share: sexually, physically, mentally abused by my father; being gay in the Bible Belt South; and attending a Southern Baptist college while being gay and enduring two years of conversion therapy so I'd “turn straight” and Jesus would love me. These are just a few of the details of my own traumatic past. They alone could be a whole book. I digress.
Through research and relationships, this book will answer the question of how teachers can thrive and learn in spaces where, at times, both parties may experience stress, distress, fear, and anxiety from both internal and external sources. There are moments when the work may read like a college lecture and others where a therapist is talking to a client on the couch in the consulting room. The hope is that we provide advice about how to harness our neurobiological understanding of fear, and help educators and students realize how to push fear aside both inside and outside classrooms. We believe it will show you how to tap into your own potential for healthy psychological functioning and intellectual growth as an individual, and within your institutional culture, by learning how to establish and maintain Courageous Classrooms and promote a growth mindset. Fear and adversity can disrupt the environment of optimal learning. Classrooms and schools that promote
