Trauma Informed vs. Trauma Response

In recent years, terms like "trauma-informed care" have become common language in boardrooms, courtrooms, classrooms, and community service programs. They sound thoughtful, compassionate—even progressive. But when a term becomes trendy, it also risks becoming hollow.

This conversation deserves more than well-meaning buzzwords. We are talking about the realities of pain that millions of people carry—the pain of violence, neglect, incarceration, poverty, and systemic betrayal. The question isn’t whether we’ve heard of trauma at this point. It’s whether we know what to do about it.

The difference between being trauma-informed and being trauma-responsive is not a matter of semantics. It is a matter of effectiveness—and in some cases, survival. One approach observes the existence of trauma. The other intervenes and transforms. One offers awareness. The other offers action.

There is a growing body of research, fieldwork, and lived experience pointing to the same conclusion: Trauma Informed Care, while a critical starting point, has reached a plateau. Without moving toward Trauma Response Care, systems remain stuck in place—aware, but not accountable. Concerned, but not changed.

Why I’m Writing This

As someone who has lived through complex trauma and spent over two decades inside the prison system, I’ve experienced firsthand the consequences of systems that only acknowledge trauma, but fail to respond to it. I’ve watched many institutions display the "trauma-informed" badge like it was enough to fix broken policies, dehumanizing practices, and infrastructures that lack healing.

The distinction between the two matters because too often, Trauma Informed Care has proven itself insufficient in reaching its full potential.

Awareness without action leaves people abandoned in their pain. Trauma Response Care is the evolution we need – one that shifts from knowledge to tangible transformation. But make no mistake: it's a destination we haven't arrived at yet.

And that gap? That space between being "informed" and truly responding? That's where trauma continues to fester. That’s where cycles repeat. That’s where people fall through the cracks.

Trauma Informed Care: The Awareness Stage

This is the first level of understanding. It means you know trauma exists (period). You've read the stats. You acknowledge that people come into your organization with pain, history, and a backpack full of experiences you can’t see. Trauma-informed care trains staff to recognize the signs of trauma and avoid re-traumatizing people. That’s good—no shade there.

Now, I'll give you a vibrant example of what this means.... Recognizing a house is on fire and merely standing outside watching the flames. You are aware of the fire. 

According to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), more than 61% of adults in the U.S. have experienced at least one adverse childhood experience (ACE), a common precursor to lifelong trauma. Trauma-informed approaches aim to create safe environments, but they often stop short of full integration into policy, programming, and leadership.

A study in the Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment & Trauma found that while trauma-informed training increased awareness among staff, it did not significantly change behaviors or reduce systemic retraumatization without deep institutional changes.

In fact, multiple evaluations show that without organizational shifts—such as policy reform, leadership engagement, and survivor-driven program design—the impact of trauma-informed training often remains surface-level. For example, a 2021 systematic review found that while trauma-informed programs improved staff attitudes and understanding, they did not change institutional behavior or produce significant outcomes for clients unless embedded within a broader cultural and structural transformation.

Too many systems stop here. They boast about being "aware," but they don’t actually do anything about the trauma. It's performative, not transformative. It's "optics," not action.

Trauma Response Care: The Action Stage

Trauma response care means you don’t just see the fire—you grab the hose, run inside, and start pulling people out.

You have practices, policies, and pathways that directly respond to the needs trauma creates. You shift power dynamics. You give people agency. You offer healing instead of punishment. You change the way the system functions because you understand what trauma requires, not just what it looks like.

Trauma response care incorporates ongoing assessments, community-led planning, restorative approaches, and a culture of healing over control. It recognizes that trauma doesn't just impact the individual—it impacts families, neighborhoods, and generations.

Statistics show that trauma response models are more effective in reducing recidivism, improving mental health outcomes, and fostering long-term stability. For example, trauma-responsive juvenile justice programs have seen recidivism rates drop by 22-45% when care is individualized and healing-centered.

Yet, as a society, we are not there yet. We’ve built awareness around trauma, but we haven’t translated that into collective response. We’ve acknowledged the fire, the damage it created, but we haven’t rebuilt the house.

Real trauma response care takes infrastructure. It means investing in your people, changing your intake processes, redesigning your spaces, and—most critically—listening to survivors and impacted people.

Trauma response care cannot be condensed into a PowerPoint slide or squeezed into a one-day staff retreat. It’s not a checklist, a buzzword training, or a feel-good certification to hang on the wall. It requires consistent engagement, structured reflection, and spaces designed to rebuild trust, identity, and safety over a period of time in a program.

A true trauma response program is immersive. It walks participants through the layered impact of their life experiences—connecting early adversity to present-day behavior, relationships, and decision-making. It fosters emotional literacy, accountability, and personal agency in environments that center compassion over control.

Healing becomes a process of connection, not correction. This principle is backed by research from trauma experts such as Dr. Bruce Perry and Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, who emphasize that healing from trauma occurs primarily through safe, supportive relationships—not through discipline or control.

The National Child Traumatic Stress Network reports that relational healing models, including peer support, mentoring, and community-based therapy, significantly improve outcomes across mental health, emotional regulation, and long-term stability.

For instance, studies show that trauma survivors engaged in consistent, relationship-driven healing programs are 60% more likely to remain engaged in services and demonstrate improved emotional and behavioral health.

In contrast, punitive or behavior-focused models often exacerbate trauma symptoms, leading to higher dropout rates, increased anxiety, and decreased trust in systems designed to help them.

Connection builds trust. Trust opens the door to vulnerability. And vulnerability is the soil where real healing grows. That’s why a trauma-responsive model must prioritize consistent, authentic human connection—not correction—as its foundation.

Being trauma-informed is knowing. Being trauma-responsive is doing. One is a mindset; the other is a mission. This isn’t about semantics. It’s about survival. And for those of us who’ve had to climb out of the dark, we know the difference in our bones.

Communities do not thrive on awareness alone. They thrive when healing becomes cultural—when systems no longer ask, "What’s wrong with you?" but instead, "What happened to you—and how can we walk with you toward restoration?"

As someone who lived nearly half his life in a prison cell, who built healing spaces in the most unlikely places, and who now works daily to transform how communities and institutions respond to trauma—I speak from lived experience, not theory. This is not just professional to me. It is personal, and life changing

We cannot afford to stay informed and inactive. When healing becomes the norm, not the exception, we don’t just save individuals—we revive entire communities.

Be active,

Troy Rienstra