What Courage and Resilience Look Like

As psychologists and school consultants, we have visited dozens of schools after tragedies––suicides, shootings, accidental deaths, hurricanes, floods, the pandemic, fires––to help their communities navigate the challenges and the emotional ups and downs of such catastrophes. But only Hurricane Katrina compares to the devastation caused by the wildfires in Los Angeles this past January––the most destructive in American history––which completely or partially destroyed nearly two dozen public, charter, and private California schools. Among the private schools are five independent schools: Calvary Christian School, Seven Arrows School, St. Matthew’s Parish School, The Village School, and St. Mark’s School. 

Deborah Dowling, executive director of the California Association of Independent Schools, recently asked us to spend two days to support leaders and community members at these five schools as they navigate daunting challenges: finding temporary quarters; supporting families, teachers, and administrators; and retaining enough current students and attracting enough prospective families to keep the school viable.

We worked with administrative teams, met with faculty, and spoke to parents. The experience was both sobering and uplifting. We came away from our visit impressed by the enormity of the tasks at hand and by the courage, resilience, and extraordinary creativity of the educators and administrators working to save their schools. We were touched and impressed by all they were doing—and by how, despite terrible obstacles, they were coping remarkably.

Finding Space

Immediately after the fires—and even before the flames were fully extinguished—the leaders of the five schools were searching for new locations to continue educating their students. Given the extent of the damage in Pacific Palisades and Altadena, they had to explore a wide range of options. 

Three found space in office parks in Santa Monica that had remained partially vacant since the pandemic. Entire floors were available, but getting permits was complex because the spaces did not easily meet the criteria for a school, particularly for young children. The speed with which these schools reimagined unfamiliar settings was stunning. For example, Alexandra Michaelson, head of St. Matthew’s Parish School, was able to visit 12 properties and move her entire school operation into an office complex in just 18 days. The actual move took only two exhausting days for the teachers once Michaelson had secured the necessary permits. 

During our visits to these displaced schools, we were initially struck by the strangeness of seeing teachers and students in large, glass-walled open spaces where one would expect to find adults in cubicles and offices. However, as soon as we saw children studying, raising hands, chatting, and laughing, our perception of the spaces shifted entirely. The students seemed to have adapted quickly to their new environments, which included wooden bookcases––made by the schools’ buildings and grounds staff––used as walls between the different classrooms. Proof that wherever teachers are teaching and children are learning, that’s what makes a school.

Supporting Staff and Parents

We didn’t see dazed, sad-looking children who were unable to function, but we did see exhausted adults. In each school, we met and heard about educators who’d lost homes, and in some cases, whose parents or in-laws had also lost homes. For many, they were also responsible for their extended families and uncertain as to when, if ever, they might be able to rebuild or reoccupy their homes. There were also teachers in each school whose day had been significantly extended by road closures that lengthened their commute. 

Administrators, some of whom were facing these very same dilemmas, were working, as one said, “to keep a positive, encouraging vibe.” They were making themselves visible, communicating with teachers, and assisting them in adjusting their expectations for students as needed due to the exceptional circumstances.

In addition to their concerns about staff, leadership teams were particularly eager for help in calming parents. Some parents were experiencing anxiety about whether their children were learning well. Others, disoriented and fearful, were focused on small details, such as whether the school, which now lacked a kitchen in which to make lunches, would be serving processed foods as snacks. The schools were all doing their best to provide reassurance to parents about these details and also about the school’s plans for the future, but asked us to speak to parents directly, which we did in two meetings arranged by the five heads of school and hosted at their new spaces. We held our first meeting in Pasadena, organized by Jennifer Tolbert from St. Mark’s School, who also invited leaders of other affected private and charter schools. A second meeting took place at the Village School’s new location in Santa Monica, co-hosted by heads of school John Evans, Vincent Downey, and Margarita Pagliai.

The biggest worry we heard from parents was about protecting their children from further trauma. Many simply assumed that their children had already been traumatized by the fires and would be “triggered” by, for instance, returning to the site of their burned-out house or school, or if school assignments were too difficult. Many parents have come to see their children as fundamentally fragile, imagining that things that upset their children or make them sad are traumatic for them. But it is possible for children to be very upset and very sad without being traumatized. “Trauma” refers to sudden, horrifying, life-threatening events that overwhelm a person’s capacity to cope and often cause long-term disabling symptoms. No doubt, many of the children we met were upset to lose their homes and their schools, but most were not truly traumatized. 

It may seem odd to tell people whose houses have burned down that their children were unlikely to have been traumatized, but it’s true. In our experience with schools and families following tragedies of all kinds, we have seen that adults routinely imagine that if they themselves are upset, their children must be more upset. This is rarely true. Even when children do become very upset, they typically recover more quickly than adults. 

We reported honestly to parents that we had not seen shocked and traumatized children during our brief school visits. We had seen children working and playing, which told us they were recovering well, even though their lives had been disrupted. Parents were relieved to hear this and encouraged when we pointed out something that Ann Masten, one of the world’s leading experts on childhood trauma, has noted: School—with its warmth, structure, routines, strong leadership, and high expectations—can be a place of healing, even for children who are severely traumatized. 

Enrollment

As we listened to the leadership teams, it was clear that admission and enrollment was the most pressing issue. Nearly half of the families in some of the schools had either lost their homes or were displaced. Many families, who couldn’t tolerate the extended disruption or no longer see L.A. as a safe place to live, have moved away. School leadership teams have had to discuss questions like: How many will return? And will enough families remain to refill the schools that are now missing a third or more of their students? 

We heard essentially the same story from the admission directors: their school’s application pool had been exceptionally strong in both numbers and quality, and they were anticipating a great admission year. But as of mid-March, only about two-thirds of their families had submitted re-enrollment requests, and admission staff were struggling to sell prospective parents on a school whose real campus was in ashes and whose temporary campus was an office building. One of the most compelling points they were making to parents was to focus on the importance of the school community to children’s development and well-being.

Looking Ahead

The fires caused not just an instant emergency for the five schools but an existential crisis. So much of their future depends on factors beyond their control, ranging from insurance coverage, air quality, and site toxicity, to financial issues, and the uncertain decision-making of parents. 

Despite all of these challenges, we saw leadership teams working tirelessly with their teachers to create a meaningful environment for children, their parents, and their communities. We saw teams that had grown closer in the face of crisis and that were aligned and focused on the tasks in front of them. We saw, in short, courage and resilience in the face of disaster. 

Authors
Robert Evans

Robert Evans is a psychologist, school consultant, and co-author of Hopes and Fears: Strengthening the Relationship with Today’s Independent School Parents.

Michael Thompson

Michael Thompson, Ph.D., is a psychologist, school consultant, and co-author of Hopes and Fears: Strengthening the Relationship with Today’s Independent School Parents.