Cavemen don't go to school.

 

                Cavemen Don’t Go to School

Growing up, my favorite books were from the Bailey School Kids series, with titles like "Zombies Don’t Play Soccer." Inspired by these whimsical tales, today I’m writing my own version: "Cavemen Don’t Go to School."

When I was younger, I often wished I understood what was happening in my brain when all I wanted to do was scream and make others feel the way they made me feel. I can’t count how many times my actions were met with the phrase, “You know better than that.” The well-meaning adults in my life were right; when I was calm and using my whole brain, I did know better. What they didn’t realize was that in a state of stress, I didn’t have access to that knowledge.

Imagine you’re taking a class and taking diligent notes. Suddenly, the doors between you and your meticulously organized notes slam shut. Now you must take an assessment on a year’s worth of material without any help. This is what it feels like when a person enters the stress response; the body switches to the sympathetic nervous system, often called the “caveman brain,” and access to other parts of the brain becomes limited. Our ancestors faced life-threatening dangers, triggering fight, flight, or freeze responses. Cavemen didn’t go to school, and under stress, our brains act similarly.

Although this response is universal, neurodivergent individuals often have an overactive amygdala. The amygdala, in layman’s terms, decides if a threat is real or not. Due to rejection sensitivity dysphoria and impulse control issues, the amygdala in neurodivergent people often misidentifies threats. For example, if a teacher doesn’t call on a student because others need a turn, the ADHD brain might interpret this as the teacher being mad, leading to hurt feelings and a negative attitude. This response can confirm the amygdala’s false identification of a threat.

Understanding this process and catching ourselves before entering our “caveman brain” can save us from self-fulfilling prophecies. Adults must recognize that meaningful conversations and reflections can’t happen until the parasympathetic nervous system is activated, reopening access to the frontal lobe. Unlike Elsa from "Frozen," we can’t just “let it go.”

What does this look like in practice? 

As an adult, I now understand my brain to the point that I can trick it into compliance. When I enter into my caveman brain and I can't exercise, I have created a system for myself with trusted adults. I have an emotional support coworker, and I even ordered her an official badge for this school year! When I think my top is going to burst, I craft an email to the person who has caused my rejection sensitivity dysphoria to be set off. Instead of putting the offender's information into the recipient bar, I put my emotional support coworker’s contact, with the heading, “Should I send this?” Usually, she responds back and tells me under no uncertain terms should that email be sent. Once in a while, she will give me the go-ahead; however, hitting the send button is usually enough. It’s a task that separates me from the event that caused my caveman brain to activate. It gives my brain the okay to return to homeostasis and go on with my day. 

Teaching children to use this strategy may seem challenging, but in my experience, they catch on very quickly. Instead of sending emails, I have created journals for them to use. This journal serves as a strategy to combat many of the struggles that occur in neurodivergent people.

The journal acts as a safe space for children to express their feelings and thoughts without immediate repercussions. By writing down their frustrations and emotions, they can separate themselves from the triggering event, much like my email strategy. This practice helps them process their feelings and activates their parasympathetic nervous system, allowing their brains to return to a state of calm.

Using the journal, children can:

1. Label their emotions: Identifying and naming their feelings helps them gain clarity and control.
2. Reflect on their triggers: Understanding what sets off their caveman's brain enables them to recognize patterns and anticipate reactions.
3. Practice self-regulation: The act of writing slows down their thought process, giving them time to think and cool down.
4. Communicate safely: They can share their journal entries with a trusted adult if they choose, fostering open communication and support.
5. Reaffirm relationships with trusted adults: Letters from trusted adults at the front of the journal talk about all the reasons they care about the child, reinforcing feelings of safety, love, and support.

This system also creates a realistic way for educators to foster relationships, attend to different needs, and ensure the academic curriculum is being addressed. The journal is introduced to a student with a conversation like this:

"I have noticed that sometimes when we disagree, you seem to think that I am mad at you or don't like you. I want you to know that is not true. I made you this journal so that when we disagree, you can read that no matter how I feel about your actions, how I feel about you does not change."

Once they read the letters, you tell the child that the journal is a safe space where they can communicate their feelings without fear of getting in trouble. I have recently learned to add the caveat, "unless you threaten someone else's life," but that's a story for another day. I tell them that if the mean words are for me, it might take me a minute to get out of my caveman's brain and respond, but I will always respond.

Whenever I explain this part, I think about what an amazing dad I have. As an adult, I found my childhood diaries, some from when I was about five years old. I definitely did not know how to write back then; the entries are in my dad's handwriting. Some of the things he wrote for me were not kind to him, but nonetheless, he wrote them, letting me speak my feelings into the world.

Last year one of my students used the notebook exactly as it was intended, even though it caught me off guard a little it turned into an amazing opportunity to continue shaping the replacement behavior. He was able to express his feelings fully without disrupting any other scholars in the class. By getting these feelings out he was able to calm himself and shortly after return to learning as shown in the pictures below. 

This journaling system is more than just a tool for emotional regulation; it's a bridge for building trust and understanding between students and educators, children and caregivers. By implementing this strategy, we can create a more supportive and inclusive learning environment for all students.