Triggers in Church
Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to be a guest at a baby naming celebration at a church which hosts several different ethnic groups from the African community. A naming celebration is a very important part of the community. During the introductory speech and prayer, the pastor blesses the baby with his/her name and asks the congregation to help the parents and family in raising the baby together as a nation. It was a beautiful celebration of introducing the baby as an innocent being in need of love and guidance and the congregation's role as extended family who promises to fulfill those needs just as if they were the parents of the baby. I felt honored to witness the heartfelt celebration.
At the happiest moment of the celebration, I realized that many children who have been adopted have not seen that joy in their early childood due to many negative circumstances (i.e., substance abuse, mental health illness, poor choices, orphanage life, neglect, and trauma). I felt a mixture of feelings at that point; sadness and grief for the hurt kids I know and feeling grateful that my friend's child will not know that sadness.
Over the remainder of the weekend, I continued to process my experience at the ceremony. I have never visited an African church. But, due to my past experiences in churches, I knew that the congregation would be welcoming and friendly. I also knew the pastor would give a sermon encouraging people to give and receive love and faith. I also expected there would be someone talking about the church schedule, outreach, and past events. In my gut, I knew that would be what would be happening that day along with the baby naming celebration. I felt comfortable. All of that did happen. No surprises. Here is what happened and how I felt.
I identify as Asian and everyone else belonged to different ethnic groups from Africa. I did see one white guy waaaay in the back of the church having a good time during the praise and worship. A lot of people wore beautiful clothing from their ethnic groups. Being a crochet addict, I loved seeing the textiles and patterns in the African clothing. At one point in the introductions before the sermon, I was asked to introduce myself to the congregation as a visitor and state who had invited me. Someone handed me a microphone and I saw myself on the big screen, so everyone could meet me. They all clapped and smiled. How nice! I received a coffee cup for visiting the church! I love coffee cups and have a collection! When the sermon began, my friend's relative asked for an earpiece for translation because I didn't speak the dialect chosen for the sermon. Someone from the church staff helped me right away. Even though the earpiece cut out every few seconds, it didn't matter because of my past experiences in church. I sat one empty seat away from a teenage member and was told to move next to her because "We are not to feel separated." How nice! I moved over immediately and my new neighbor explained all kinds of things to me without me even having to ask. At the end of the sermon, the pastor stated he wanted the visitors to come up to the front so he could greet us individually and publicly. I almost walked out too soon because my translator wasn't working consistently. But the teenager I was sitting next to grabbed my hand and held it so I wouldn't go out too soon. We both laughed out loud. I felt so accepted and assisted.
But, what if I were looking at the church day through a traumatized child's perspective? What if I had previous experiences of being traumatized and humiliated and knew and expected in my gut that no one would accept me? During the late morning sermon, I found that there were many triggers which could have elicited behavioral outbursts if I had been a traumatized child just beginning the journey to healing with a new family.
I didn't look like anyone else and I wasn't dressed like everyone else which made me feel like everyone was staring at me. I felt like a weirdo. One person I could possibly identify with wouldn't even look at me. Everyone was staring at me when I tried to say something. I felt like I was under a microscope and everyone was waiting for me to make a mistake. I was afraid I would be laughed at. I didn't know what anyone was saying and I tried all kinds of magical things to figure out stuff, but I never felt like i could ask for help because I didn't want to feel stupid by admitting I didn't understand. I picked a seat one seat away from a stranger, but was told that this behavior was wrong. I moved over next to her because someone made me do it. And I almost embarrassed myself even more by being stupid and walking out at the wrong time for the pastor; I felt so angry. This girl I didn't know grabbed my hand and held it. She laughed at me. What does all of this mean? Is she making fun of me? She thinks I'm stupid. I can't stand this! I'm going to explode/cry/break something/make mom mad!
Does this sound like anything from my gut feelings of love and acceptance from my previous experiences in church? Nope. But, does it spell out previous experiences with trauma and neglect before a hurt child ever met their new family? Absolutely, yes!!
It is very important to be able to help the traumatized child to identify their internal struggles with words so we can help to assure them of safety and acceptance from their new parents. And even more important to help parents to acknowledge their child's unique perspective and that it comes from past traumatic experiences which are now intruding upon their current relationship. Maintaining a connection with your hurt child who misperceives the most positive of your parenting as a repeat of past trauma is not an easy job. Therapy which specializes in trauma can help you and your child in finding a common ground to build that consistent connection for your relationship to grow.