Maybe they walked away mid-sentence. Maybe they rolled their eyes. Maybe they just went quiet.
So you wonder: did any of that matter?
The honest answer is โ almost certainly yes. You might just not know it yet.
From TCI training
The intentional use of self
One of the most powerful ideas to come out of Therapeutic Crisis Intervention training is deceptively simple: you and the relationship you have with a young person are the intervention. Not the program. Not the policy. Not the consequences or the contracts. You.
The way you carry yourself into a room. The tone you use when things are hard. Whether you choose to sit down when a young person is upset, rather than stand over them. Whether you notice something small โ the way they did their hair, a drawing on their notebook, or that they look tired today and don’t seem themselves.
The intentional use of self means recognising that in every interaction, we are bringing something. The question is whether we’re being deliberate about exactly what that is.
When we slow down, regulate ourselves, and choose connection over correction โ we model something that many of the young people in our care have never reliably seen before.
We show them what a safe, grounded, caring adult looks like. We show them it’s possible to have both their physical and their emotional needs met. That’s a seed. Even if we never see it grow.
Consider this: the young people we support often come from histories where adults have been unpredictable, absent, or unsafe. For some of them, we are the first consistent, caring adult they have encountered. That is not a small thing. It doesn’t feel that dramatic on a Tuesday afternoon when you’re driving someone to an appointment and the conversation is mostly silence โ but it is.
What the research says
Research on resilience in young people, time and again, points to the same finding: what makes the difference is not a perfect childhood. It’s the presence of at least one stable, caring adult. One person who kept showing up. One person who didn’t give up. One person who, even on the hard days, treated them like they were worth the effort.
That could be you. That might already be you, and you don’t even know it yet.
The nature of this work means we plant seeds in soil we may never tend again. Young people move on. Placements change. We don’t always get to see what takes root. But that doesn’t mean nothing grew.
Somewhere, a young person might be carrying the memory of an adult who stayed calm when they expected chaos. Who asked about their day and actually waited for the answer. Who said I believe you can do this โ and meant it. You may never hear about it from them. But you were there.
