The Unconscious and Conscious Harm We Do - Part 1
- Annie O'Shaughnessy

- Nov 13
- 3 min read
By Annie O’Shaughnessy

As a young teacher back in 1990, my unconscious strategy for classroom management was to be really nice to students so they would feel motivated to do what I asked and be nice to me back. It worked. It turns out that being nice to students — treating them with dignity, as human beings with needs, hurts, and struggles of their own — creates the respect, safety, voice, and sense of belonging needed for authentic engagement and real learning. This strategy had a lot of positive impact on my students. However, I eventually learned the shadow side of of my strategy and the harm it could do when used unconsciously.
Before I share the rest of my story, let’s pause to explore what I mean by “unconscious” or “conscious” harm and why does it matter?
My contention is that most of the harm we do to each other day to day is unconscious. Very, very few people wake up in the morning and say to themselves, “I am going to hurt my students, my family, my friends today!” And yet we still harm each other. It’s our duty therefore to intentionally work to uncover our unconscious drivers, “survival” strategies, biases, and beliefs so we can do less unconscious harm.
“Harm” is a word I use to describe any action/word or lack of action/word that causes a negative impact on someone else or the environment we share. This includes the impact of limiting someone’s ability to grow and learn. This negative impact might be simply an irritation, an annoyance, or actually traumatic.
Unconscious harm tends to arise when we aren’t aware of the ways we work to meet our psychological, emotional, and physical needs. In my case as a 24-year-old teacher, I was not aware that my very effective strategy of being “nice” to students came out of a legitimate fear (aka terror) of conflict. And that fear of conflict created an often co-dependent and transactional relationship with my students — one that I did not fully understand the harm of until later.
Twenty-six years later I was a counseling teacher at a therapeutic school. I worked one-on-one with youth who could not function effectively in public school settings for a variety of reasons, but mostly due to the impact of early childhood and ongoing trauma. We had supervision meetings every other week to support us in this very challenging work. One day my supervisor Sam said to me,
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a student blow up at you or get into a conflict with you.”
Beaming with pride I replied, “Yeah, I am pretty good at building rapport.”
“I didn’t mean that as a compliment,” he replied without smiling.
Yikes! What?!?!
Sam continued, “All of us, especially our students need to know that they can have a conflict with someone and survive, that they can challenge a boundary you set and you will still greet them warmly the next day. They need many opportunities to experience a rupture in relationship and then a repair in order to heal their own fear of conflict.”
I left Sam’s office with my head reeling. For 26 years, I was so proud of my ability to avoid conflict with students. Now I was wondering, at what cost?
The first thing I understood from my meeting with Sam was that my own fear of conflict was inhibiting their growth and healing. As I reflected more deeply, I could see another layer of harm. My need to avoid conflict often translated into not holding kids accountable. By not holding kids accountable, I was robbing them of a very essential life lesson.
Accountability is not punishment. When done with dignity, respect, and care, holding someone accountable communicates a life-changing truth. It says, you “count.” You matter. What you do matters. What you don’t do matters. Students might push back at first when you seek accountability, but when you do it with integrity and love, they will quickly sense that you are not seeking to punish or shame them but rather to uplift them and what they are capable of contributing to this world.
Restorative practices are designed to hold people accountable in a way that communicates dignity, respect, and belonging. I developed the restorative communication approach called P.A.I.R. Up! in 2017 to help support educators (and myself!) to do this. Check out the one-sheet or Restorative Communication Toolbox developed with Camille Koosmann to up your game.
And finally, spend some time reflecting on your own unconscious ways of “managing” students and/or colleagues.
Reflection question: Are there any ways some of your unconscious “survival” strategies impact your students or colleagues?
Stay tuned for Part II of this series, where I talk more about conscious and unconscious harm.





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