Dear Reader:
Post-election, I found myself encapsulated by the state of grief, longing, pain, stillness, hope, and creativity. Each feeling took on a life of its own within my personhood—a rich and creamy, melanated queer woman who has both experienced and witnessed the hopes, deaths, futurism, and the spiritual of what it means to live as a first-generation American in this country. As I delved into these newly sprouted states of being, clawing at social media, podcasts, and news outlets for connection and validation, I found myself mostly met with shock and anger. Yet, within that chaos, a remembrance emerged—a deep love and a futuristic calm that settled and nested within my limbic system.
In that moment, I realized that turning to my wellness practices, finding joy in the living with my family, friends, and community, and remaining attuned to what my spiritual, body, and mind required would be of utmost importance. Despite the structural betrayal responses that was triggered—not just one or two or three waves, but a profound recognition that many Black American elders and generations before me have faced too many times—I saw that they have carried empathy, hope, and futurism despite it all.
So here we are – again.
What is Structural Betrayal Trauma?
While my research as of today has not confirmed "Structural Betrayal Trauma" as a widely recognized term in psychological literature, I acknowledge that it closely aligns with existing frameworks that explore the impact of systemic oppression and institutional failures on marginalized communities.
I define Structural Betrayal Trauma as the intersection of systemic oppression and betrayal trauma, emphasizing the profound impact of institutional and structural failures on marginalized communities. For the context and purpose of this blog post, I am referring specifically to Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) communities.
So, where is the Structure of the Betrayal Trauma?
In the context of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) communities, structural betrayal trauma is more than just a personal experience—it’s a deep, historical wound that is woven into the very fabric of America's past and present. It’s an ongoing, systemic, and generational wound. This trauma isn’t just tied to one relationship—it’s the result of historical and continuous broken promises by institutions cloaked in rhetoric of liberty, justice, and equality. Instead, these institutions have perpetuated separateness, individualism, assimilation, disintegration, and hierarchies of terror, violence, and harm.
As Dr. Joy DeGruy states in Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome: America’s Legacy of Enduring Injury and Healing, “We have endured generations of oppression and adapted in order to survive... these adaptations, while necessary, have become mischaracterized as pathology” (DeGruy, 2005, p. 48). For BIPOC communities, this trauma isn’t just about one person breaking trust—it’s about the historical and continuous breaking of social contracts.
From the lens of BIPOC experiences, betrayal trauma extends across generations and communities, deeply affecting the health and wellness of individuals and families. The stability of a receptive nervous system—a natural human need—has long been interrupted by oppressive frameworks designed to inflict trauma. This ongoing betrayal of the tacit social agreement for equitable connection, mutual growth, and shared humanity is felt deeply when spaces or relationships that should be safe—whether communities, institutions, or between individuals—become sites of harm, exploitation, or violence. The impact is not only emotional but also spiritual and communal, often leading to prolonged stress and a degradation of health.
Historical Context: The Deep Roots of Betrayal in the United States
Structural Betrayal trauma may not be a common term in everyday conversation, yet its impact is far-reaching when examined historically. The trauma carried by BIPOC communities—particularly Black Americans—stems from slavery, Jim Crow laws, police brutality, and redlining. These injustices persist today, resurfacing through modern infrastructures and policies. Indigenous communities have also been systematically betrayed through forced removals, broken treaties, and cultural erasure. As Renee Linklater writes in Decolonizing Trauma Work: Indigenous Stories and Strategies, “Colonial trauma has left deep wounds that are still felt today. Healing is not just about addressing the past but reclaiming what was taken from us” (Linklater, 2014, p. 73).
Resmaa Menakem, in his book My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies, explains that this trauma is stored in our bodies. “The trauma of racial betrayal is not just emotional; it lives in the body and, without healing, it is passed down like a genetic inheritance” (Menakem, 2017, p. 91). This trauma is chronic, persistent, and often invisible, manifesting in how we protect ourselves, relate to others, and navigate the world.
How Betrayal Trauma Affects Relationships and Community Building
When it comes to relationships, betrayal trauma profoundly impacts how we connect, especially within our communities. Dr. Jennifer Mullan in Decolonizing Therapy: Oppression, Trauma, and the Radical Journey to Healing emphasizes, “Trauma is a relational wound, and in communities where there has been historical betrayal, healing must happen in community too” (Mullan, 2023, p. 102). The trauma doesn’t remain in the past—it shows up in our attempts to build trust, how we hold back, and how we protect ourselves. This is why creating spaces where BIPOC folks can heal together is so crucial.
Dr. Kenneth V. Hardy, in his article Racial Trauma and Healing, highlights that, “The guardedness we see in our communities is not resistance, but a necessary survival response... It is our way of protecting ourselves from further harm” (Hardy, 2016, p. 13). These protective tendencies are survival mechanisms passed down from generation to generation, designed to shield personhood from further harm. However, these same defenses can limit our ability to form, sustain, or trust relationships—connections essential to nurturing our nervous system, creativity, and spiritual intelligence.
When BIPOC communities express their pain, they’re often met with defensiveness or attempts to invalidate their experiences. These defensive reactions, which disconnect the Other from their natural origin – of manifest as policing, silencing, or minimizing the trauma.
Healing Through Community and Collective Liberation
Despite this pervasive trauma, BIPOC communities have always found ways to move toward healing. Community healing spaces, organizing efforts, networking and cultural preservation are ways in which BIPOC individuals continue to reclaim power, nurture psychological safety, and reconnect with their roots, traditions, and intuition.
By focusing on nurturing our nervous system, creativity, and spiritual intelligence—both individually and within our communities—we can reconnect with the goodness of our natural state. This process allows us to heal from the deep wounds of systemic betrayal trauma, reclaim our inherent worth, and create spaces where safety, connection, and shared humanity flourish. When we center our healing on ourselves first, we can then extend that healing outward, fostering communities that are resilient, empowered, and deeply aligned with our collective liberation.
Let’s remember: “healing is not just an act of survival but a profound form of resistance, resilience, and renewal”. ~Vierge
References
DeGruy, J. (2005). Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome: America’s Legacy of Enduring Injury and Healing. Uptone Press.
Linklater, R. (2014). Decolonizing Trauma Work: Indigenous Stories and Strategies. Fernwood Publishing.
Menakem, R. (2017). My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies. Central Recovery Press.
Mullan, J. (2023). Decolonizing Therapy: Oppression, Trauma, and the Radical Journey to Healing. Sounds True.
Hardy, K. V. (2016). Racial Trauma and Healing. Journal of Clinical Psychology.