If two decades of neuroscientific research have taught us anything it's that stress is toxic to the brain. Images from functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRIs) and other such devices tell a sobering story: Neurons in the brains of healthy control subjects show many robust branches and connections while those in subjects exposed to chronic stress resemble frayed and broken threads. The cortexes of baboons at the top of the social ladder light up with a rainbow of colors while those of harassed baboons lower down the hierarchy are dim and dull from inactivity. Other studies show how stress shrinks the brain while it expands the belly, causes inflammation throughout the body, and generally makes us fat, dumb, and depressed.
In the face of these findings, you'd expect to see stress declared Public Health Enemy No. 1, like smoking or obesity before it. And yet for most of us in 21st-century America, stress remains a silent killer that we seem unwilling or unable to acknowledge. Collectively, we are like the frog in the beaker of water that adapts and adapts as the water gradually heats up until it is finally boiled to death. Indeed, according to Bessel van der Kolk, a professor of psychiatry at Boston University Medical School, the denial of our situation seems to go with the territory. "We know all this and yet we continue to load on the stress," he says. "This is the definition of insanity."
But as educators we need to break through this wall of denial, especially because we know stress is more harmful to children and adolescents than it is to adults, possibly setting them up for a lifetime of physical and psychological problems. Those of us in independent schools have a second wall of denial to break through - the "it-can't-happen-here" syndrome that leads us to believe overwhelming stress is something reserved for people living in grinding poverty, in the midst of war, or in the wake of natural catastrophe. In fact, children growing up in privileged circumstances may suffer a different kind of stress - one linked more to psychological than material pressures and to fears of failure rather than of physical annihilationÂ. It's easy to dismiss such suffering as a "first-world problem" or a case of "poor little rich kids" until one considers the very real damage excessive stress does to a young person's brain and nervous system. If, as teachers and administrators, we cannot end the stress in our students' lives, at least we can avoid adding to it, perhaps taking an educator's Hippocratic oath to "First do no harm." We can also make time in the school day to help students understand stress and learn to protect themselves from its most ravaging effects.
How Stress Affects the Adolescent Brain
To understand how stress can be so harmful to young people, it helps to know some basic neuroscience. Despite the brain's capacity for creativity and higher-order thinking, it is essentially a primitive instrument. Shaped by ancient evolutionary forces, our brains and nervous systems are wired for survival and thus hyper-attuned to potential threats to our safety. It's the limbic system, or emotional brain, that registers such threats, triggering a cascade of physiological responses known as the fight-or-flight response. Stress hormones flood the body, preparing it to do battle or run like hell, while the cortical regions of our brains where higher-order thinking takes place go offline altogether. Once the emergency has passed and we feel safe again, we can return to reflecting on and evaluating our experience. But in the moment of stress, all that is beside the point.
While the fight-or-flight response helped our primal ancestors escape from saber-toothed tigers and other predators, an identical process may be set off in our students by events that seem far less harrowing: an upcoming SAT upon which they believe their future hangs or being called on in class when they don't know the answer. The nervous system makes no distinction between physical or psychological threats. Thus, on any given day, we should expect a certain number of our students to show up to class in a state of nervous system hyperarousal. Such students may appear disruptive, distracted, or just plain checked out. Whatever the presentation, the result is the same - students who are not available for learning.
In general, adolescents are more prone than adults to such "hijackings" of the conscious mind because their limbic centers have not yet been brought under the modulating influence of the higher cortical areas of their brains. Thus teenagers are quicker than adults to react to stimuli and to perceive events as threats. This same developmental vulnerability makes adolescent brains more susceptible to the long-term damage stress can cause. Beginning around the time of puberty, a large-scale remodeling process takes place in the teenage brain in which lesser-used neurons are pruned back while those that are used more often are built up and strengthened. In a process called myelination, fatty sheaths form around these neurons, acting like insulation around electrical wires to speed up transmission of the electrical impulses by which brain cells communicate with one another.
In this way, the different areas in the brain of the young adolescent become more efficient at performing their particular functions. But the circuits that would connect these specialized brain regions and get them working together are still lacking. Thus, while young adolescents are capable of great feats of artistry, athleticism, and intellect, they tend to be reactive and impulsive, requiring adults to supply guidance, supervision, and other "executive functions." As adolescence progresses, the brain builds more connections between the lower limbic or "mammalian" centers and the higher "executive" centers such as the prefrontal cortex. By the time a young person reaches the early to mid-twenties, his or her emotions, sensations, intuitions, logic, and memories should be working together more or less harmoniously. A person possessed of such an "integrated" brain is able to tolerate difficult feelings, rely upon a fairly solid sense of self, sustain trusting relationships, and plan and problem-solve in a flexible way. In other words, he or she has matured into a stable young adult.
But the integration process does not always go so well. In the face of prolonged or overwhelming stress, the limbic brain gets stuck in fight-or-flight mode, the executive brain shuts down, and construction of neural circuitry between the two regions is forestalled. In such individuals, the prefrontal cortex is not able to assume its proper role as captain of the ship or CEO of the personality. Instead, the brain becomes hypervigilant, perceiving danger even in neutral or positive situations. While all adolescents are prone to a certain "negativity bias" - overreacting to criticism and reading anger or disapproval even on emotionally neutral faces - negativity becomes a default setting for those exposed to chronic stress. As psychologist Rick Hanson puts it, their brains become "Velcro for bad experiences and Teflon for good ones."
It Can't Happen Here
We expect to see this kind of nervous system arousal in survivors of combat, accidents, natural disasters, or terrorist attacks, as well as those living in neighborhoods plagued by poverty and violence. We don't expect to see it in middle- and upper-middle-class children who have been raised in relative comfort and security.
But even if they are not subjected to the most horrendous traumas, many young people do experience distressing events. The Centers for Disease Control asked 17,000 Americans about stressors they had experienced early in life, including emotional or physical abuse or neglect, sexual abuse, substance abuse or mental illness in a family member, parental divorce or separation, or parental incarceration. According to the survey, 67 percent of respondents had undergone at least one of these "Adverse Childhood Experiences" and 12 percent had experienced four or more. Far beyond any other variable including race, educational level, or household income, such "ACEs" were found to predict social, emotional, and cognitive impairment, disease, disability, and early death, with the severity of impacts rising with the number of adverse events.
In a TED Talk about the study's implications, Dr. Nadine Burke Harris cautions individuals from privileged circumstances against the tendency to disavow the trauma in their histories. "We marginalize the issue because it does apply to us. Maybe it's easier to see in other ZIP codes because we don't want to look at it" in ourselves, she says. "We'd rather be sick."
In short, a certain amount of trauma goes with the human condition regardless of one's station in life. As educators we need to be better informed about the lasting physical and psychological repercussions of traumatic events and how to respond to students who may be affected by them. We also need a better understanding of the physiological or genetic factors that make certain individuals more sensitive than usual to seemingly ordinary stressors.
But we should also acknowledge a significant layer of stress generated by the very conditions of affluence and privilege, which we as independent school educators may unwittingly perpetuate. Psychologist Suniya S. Luthar has studied young people growing up in such conditions and found rates of anxiety, depression, and somatic disorders to be twice as high among them as in the general population of high school students. Rates of alcohol use, binge drinking, and marijuana use were also found to be far above the norm. "Education and money may once have served as buffers against distress, but that is no longer the case," she reports in Psychology Today. "Something fundamental has changed: the evidence suggests that the privileged young are much more vulnerable today than in previous generations." She goes on to enumerate a variety of causes, beginning with the unrealistically high expectations placed upon privileged young people by parents, schools, and even their fellow students. From all quarters these young people receive the message that, in light of all the advantages they've been given, failure - and even ordinariness - is not an option. "Maintaining the mantle of success is a special imperative for the affluent," she writes. "Achievement of their lofty goals is tantalizingly within reach, which renders it all the more obligatory."
According to psychologist Madeline Levine, author of The Price of Privilege, it's not just the academic workload that stresses students out but what success or failure means in terms of their parents' love and approval. Young people growing up in the culture of affluence do not feel unconditionally loved, she writes, but believe they must earn their parents' positive regard through achievements in school or outside activities. This excessive focus on accomplishment leads the children to develop "false" or "fragile" selves, driven by the need for external recognition rather than intrinsic motivation. "It is hard to develop an authentic sense of self when there is constant pressure to adopt a socially facile, highly competitive, performance-oriented, unblemished 'self' that is promoted by omnipresent adults," she writes.
What is driving these inordinate demands for achievement? Certainly heightened competition from a global economy has something to do with it, along with the disappearance of the American middle class. Even if they are financially secure, many parents worry that their children will lose their footing on the increasingly slippery slope between haves and have-nots. Stuck on a treadmill of work-and-spend consumerism, such parents may model for their children a way of life that values rewards in the future over satisfaction in the present and material goods and status over relationships. This mindset extends to the children in the form of an obsession with grades, SAT scores, Advanced Placement classes, and admission to prestigious colleges. Young people caught up in this "race to nowhere" are overburdened by schoolwork, deprived of sleep, and cheated of the opportunity to explore the world on their own terms and discover their own sources of meaning and passion. One high school senior expressed the agony of such a life in response to a recent New York Times column about a rash of suicides among teenagers in Palo Alto, California, one of the country's "epicenters of overachievement": "My junior year was one of the most depressing years of my life, especially because each day I was telling myself, 'I'll never be 17 again and I spend every day, every night, and every weekend doing a mind-numbing amount of endless work.' It tore me apart."
To add to the problem, young people feel it's taboo to complain. They are led to believe that, because of all they've been given, their suffering is not legitimate. As the student cited above goes on to write, "I know I am SO PRIVILEGED to be getting this education, and this awareness [makes] me even more ashamed of the sadness."
Nor is the peer group a reliable refuge from adult demands; too often, it is a source of yet more pressure and shame. After all, one's classmates are also caught up in the quest for academic achievement, attractiveness, athletic prowess, popularity, and - for girls, at least - "effortless perfection." As it is, adolescents are constantly comparing themselves with others; such a competitive atmosphere only intensifies their anxiety and self-consciousness.
In this Darwinian universe, students who can't keep up with the fast-moving herd feel ashamed. To cry uncle, admit that it's too much, would be to admit failure and risk being labeled a loser. And so they redouble their defensive armoring and seek solace and self-soothing on the side - in the form of marijuana or alcohol, compulsive Internet or video game usage, procrastination, and myriad other forms of avoidance and distraction. Their anxiety and depression also take the form of somatic complaints such as chronic headaches, insomnia, or digestive disorders. Indeed, these are some of the most common presentations, as they can be easily dismissed as purely physical in nature by both the ashamed young person and the adults in her world who don't wish to acknowledge the existence of stress or the very real damage it can do.
What to Do?
The first step is to stop denying the stress in our own lives, to take ownership of our anxiety, and to stop inflicting it on the kids. Next, we can stop denying the stress in our students' lives. Rather than admonishing and shaming them for their dysfunctional behaviors, we can recognize what's behind those behaviors: namely, a need to alleviate intolerable stress. Finally, we can educate students about the neurobiology of stress, teach them ways to cope with it, and provide opportunities for building healthier brains… and selves.
Fortunately, along with what we've learned about the damage caused by an always-turned-on fight-or-flight response, neuroscience has confirmed the efficacy of some fairly simple practices that quiet dysregulated nervous systems and repair broken brains. The secret lies in shutting out the external world with its expectations, judgments, and overstimulation and tuning in to the world inside through practices such as mindfulness, meditation, and yoga. After years of controlled studies and clinical experience, van der Kolk and others have come to regard such mind-body approaches as the gold standard for treating toxic stress. The question we should be asking ourselves, he says, is "How do you get people to notice themselves… to feel their bodies and to feel what goes on inside themselves? Only after you know your interiority can you begin to have a life."
Psychiatrist Daniel Siegel urges schools to incorporate such practices into their daily routines. Through his "Mindsight" program, he offers a handful of breathing, relaxation, mindfulness, and journaling exercises designed to help students increase awareness of their emotions, physical sensations, intuitions, and thoughts. By learning to focus on the present moment, letting go of worry about the future and regret about the past, students strengthen their prefrontal cortexes and other higher-level brain centers, Siegel reports. At the same time, they build neural connections between those executive areas and the limbic brain, thus enhancing their ability to regulate their emotions and navigate their way in the world with greater flexibility and wisdom.
Another approach to putting on the brakes on stress involves activating not the brain itself but what neuroscientist Stephen Porges calls "a part of the brain that migrated south." He is referring to the heart and the vagus nerve to which it is connected, which together make up our "social-engagement system." If our primitive limbic centers respond to stress by sending us into fight-or-flight mode, this more sophisticated survival mechanism counteracts stress by activating our instincts to "tend and befriend."
"We have a whole neural circuit to make us feel safe," Porges says. "The potential of an individual will only emerge in a situation of safety." The social engagement system can be switched on in any number of ways, most of them as old as human culture itself: by a reassuring tone of voice, or face-to-face interaction with someone who likes and encourages us, by singing, and by all forms of creative play. It comes alive in situations in which we feel a sense of belonging and can let down our defenses enough to share with others in open and honest ways.
The above approaches can be integrated into the school schedule via social-emotional programs, advisory periods, or, for schools that are ready to undertake a fundamental shift in values and culture, any number of other situations throughout the day. The point is not the delivery of specific content or organized activities. What matters is providing the time and space for students to slow down and turn off the stress response, to hit the pause button on incessant thinking and get grounded in the body, to observe and process their experiences and feelings, and to connect with others in genuine, caring ways.
It's a sad commentary on the present state of affairs that in order to advocate for adding such humane elements to the school day you have to resort to MRI scans and other laboratory studies showing the toxic effects of stress on the brain. And even then it's a hard sell. In the face of the hundred-and-one mandates schools are trying to fulfill, such things as emotions, the inner life, and relationships seem touchy-feely and a waste of time. Many teachers and administrators are near-boiled frogs themselves, numb to stress or addicted to it, and unable to imagine any other way. In independent schools, as in privileged groups generally, the rewards for winning may seem too great and the penalties for losing too severe for stakeholders to want to change the status quo. Thus, while many public school educators are turning to a model of "trauma-informed care" to guide them in dealing with students overwhelmed by stress, the moat of privilege that surrounds private schools keeps many of us ignorant about such innovations.
Though schools may be slow to pick up on it, the findings from neuroscience make one thing clear: the social-emotional dimension of students' lives is not tangential to academic success but foundational. Considering how vulnerable the young people in our charge are to stress - whether in its physical or psychological form - we need to attend more closely to the emotional climate of our schools and the psychic burdens attached to our expectations and demands.
References
Frank Bruni, "Best, Brightest - and Saddest?" New York Times, April 22, 2015.
Rich Hanson, "What's Next for Brain Science and Psychotherapy?" Psychotherapy Networker, Jan./Feb. 2014.
Nadine Burke Harris, "How Childhood Trauma Affects Health Across a Lifetime," TED Talk, February 17, 2015. Web, July 17, 2014. www.youtube.com/watch?v=95ovIJ3dsNk.
Daniel J. Siegel, Brainstorm: The Power and Purpose of the Teenage Brain, New York: Tarcher, 2014.
Bessel van der Kolk, "The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma," YouTube, Center for Healthy Communities, May 22, 2015. Web, July 17, 2015, www.youtube.com/watch?v=53RX2ESIqsM.