If I were driving and saw a sign to look out for crossing deer, I would become more vigilant and keep an open eye. By receiving this warning, I would become more aware of what came next, down the road. Of course, I would keep driving but just proceed with more caution to avoid potential injury. This would protect me—and others—and, who can argue against life-saving street signs?
I believe the same is true with trigger and content warnings for content in school curricula, social media, news, and more. The intention behind warnings is inarguable: warnings are supposed to make you more aware and equipped to face the future, not necessarily less anxious.
Trigger and content warnings are valuable, effective, and should be used in classrooms and beyond.
These warnings, which typically come abbreviated as “TW” or “CW,” usually point to a specific topic or experience which the issuer assumes may be emotionally triggering for a reader, viewer, or listener.
Last year, I first encountered one in Amber Carpenter’s Creative Writing class. She had assigned a reading for our non-fiction essay unit, and noted below it: “TW: The first segment (‘Fire Danger Level: Extreme’) of this essay has a line that references self-harm ideation. Feel free to skip that first section if you would like.”
I’m not sure if everyone in the class completed the whole reading. And, sure, it might have crossed my mind if I could get away with skipping a few minutes of homework. (Please do not repeat this to Amber.) Yet, I decided to read it all because I’m someone who has not struggled with self-harm. I didn’t need to skip it, because I didn’t have a personal trauma with the topic. It is not triggering for me, personally, and I didn’t anticipate the reading stirring up potentially distressing feelings for me.
The Nueva English team has actually developed a policy on content for English courses. According to this document, all English teachers are committed to previewing “concerns” that may arise for students in class curriculum. “This overview will allow students with particular sensitivities to plan their reading with care and have individual conversations if needed,” the memo states.
For Carpenter’s colleague, English teacher Jonathan Quick, the conversation around trigger warnings traces back to literature’s purpose: understanding human existence. While Quick does not hold a strong stance on trigger warnings, he acknowledged the emotional effects literature or other curriculum may have on teenage students, specifically. “There is joy and beauty in being human, but sometimes being a human is hard,” he said.
A few studies have shown that trigger warnings can fail to reduce or even heighten anxiety about content. Others warn that trigger warnings are a result of the American education system “coddling” students and reducing their resilience. While I see where both points come from, I think the original purpose of trigger warnings is critical. They have never been meant to reduce anxiety. Instead, they grant necessary autonomy and help prepare those struggling with PTSD and other forms of trauma. This being said, we need to clearly define the intent of trigger warnings so they do not become unnecessary censorship.
As someone deeply passionate about justice, social equality, and putting in the work to achieve it, potential for unnecessary avoidance or censorship makes me consider both sides of the argument. For example, I do not believe it would okay for a someone to avoid racial content that forces them to reckon with their own privilege because it is solely “too triggering.” But, if they suffered a personal trauma embedded in the content, the story might shift.
At the end of the day, learning should be a process of joy, duty, and curiosity. “Our reading or encountering of literature ought to change us in some way whether that makes us more resilient, more empathetic, or more aware,” Quick concurred.
This debate is not clear-cut because trigger and content warnings are about curating to human audiences. And it is impossible for curators to know every human’s story, emotions, background, and what will trigger them beyond discomfort and into serious distress.
I wonder, though, for opponents of trigger warnings: would sending someone down a path with dangerous animals unknowingly be okay? No! What if, instead of sending them blind, we gave a brief signal? For, if they choose to keep going: isn’t that true resilience? Knowing they might face vulnerability or personal challenges and persisting anyways?
