“In 2016, during the crisis in Syria resulting in millions of people forcibly displaced, I walked into a settlement classroom in downtown Winnipeg, Canada. The objective: to teach a two-month free English language class to newly arrived adult refugees. The reality: a literacy class where the majority of the 28 participants were non-literate in their first language and spoke little English. I realized very quickly that most of the traditional language teaching methods I had learned needed to be thrown out the window. In their stead, we played games, stretched, did language relays, sang songs, painted and collaged, and went on field trips around Winnipeg. Vital lessons were learned, such as waiting for cars to stop at crosswalks, navigating the bus routes, Canadian greetings, how to hold a pencil, and, most importantly, how to share their story when words failed.
It was in this class that I saw for the first time how sneaky psychological trauma is; that it can weasel its way into the most basic tasks; that a closed classroom door can cause panic; that sirens outside mean a day of learning can be completely lost, and that a call in the middle of class could announce the loss of a loved one far away. Again and again, I witnessed how the learning brain is sabotaged by the survival brain. But I’ve also never had a class that laughed so much, that lit up during games, or sang so loudly. And I’ve never seen such relief on someone’s face as on my student’s when he was able to tell me his story nonverbally through a poster he had made of his home and the war. Hope and resilience shone through.”
– Katy Maria Shimp

Conflicts and crises are not going away. In fact, the number of forcibly displaced peoples has only grown (UNHCR, 2024). The fall-out of these traumatic events is not going away, either, and teachers find themselves acting as first responders. Increasingly, teachers of ELLs (English Language Learners) are challenged to navigate these dynamics in their classrooms. They want to respond with sensitivity to the impact of psychological trauma, but how? The effects of psychological trauma on learning can be lessened by adapting our instruction to include methods that heal so we can learn, so we can learn to heal. This article introduces the field of Expressive Arts as a fruitful ally for language learning, addressing social-emotional well-being for student and teacher, and increasing resilience in ELLs.
When the brain learns a language, it draws on many separate parts. In fact, some neuroscientists have argued that we cannot understand the brain without first understanding language (Boroditsky, 2019). Our mother tongues build neural pathways unique to our language, context, and linguistic connections. The way we see colours, experience music, interpret interactions, organize events, feel emotions and memorize facts, to name a few, are all filtered through our language lens (Boroditsky, 2019). Even a newborn’s cry melody is shaped by their mother tongue (Mampe et al. 2006). We can imagine, then, that a trauma response that in effect shuts down all non-essential parts of the brain, would cause considerable disruption to language learning. The pathways and neural highways that already exist and have been used repeatedly hundreds of times are safe. But all new roads are closed. Normal responses of curiosity or critical thinking in the prefrontal cortex are not activated (Van der Volk, 2014). The brain can only handle so much and is focused on keeping you safe; it doesn’t have the energy to be off forging new paths. People fleeing a crisis often urgently need to learn a new language wherever they find safety (Tumen, 2025). They need this language to get a job, to navigate life, and to establish community. But their brains are telling them it’s not the most important thing right now. Trauma has a direct impact on a person’s “inclination to learn languages, to use, retain, or abandon a particular language, or to take refuge in silence” (Busch & McNamara, 2020). Our students sit in class with symptoms of trauma or chronic stress, physically ill, depressed, distracted, concerned, or silent, when they know they need to learn this language. Without it, they hit a roadblock in the system, damaging future opportunities. And that stress exacerbates everything else. It’s a vicious cycle, and unfortunately, one that drains resources in a bogged-down immigration system (Tumen, 2025). But what if there were a way to learn that calmed the brain?

Expressive arts is an emerging field, both ancient and historically recent, focusing on the potential for learning and healing in the process of artmaking. Modalities include music, creative movement, dance, poetry, visual art, drama, symbolic imagery and found objects. While most of these modalities are not new to language teachers, e.g., Multiple Intelligences (Gardner, 2017), what remains largely unexamined is the research into links between language and trauma (Busch & McNamara, 2020), memory, images, sensory-motor experiences and the neurobiology of social-emotional learning (SEL) (Immordino-Yang et al., 2019).
Accessing multimodal learning facilitates meaningful connections between students and material. With a visual cortex five times as big as the auditory cortex, humans are programmed to pay attention to more than just words (Dickenson, 1997). We also get bored if sensory inputs stay the same, and not because we’re undisciplined. If we experience the same medium of instruction every day, our brains actually filter out what they deem irrelevant (Puchta, 2013). Chomsky (1988) said, “The truth of the matter is that about 99 percent of teaching is making the students feel interested in the material.” Anytime learning is personally meaningful, it is more likely to be remembered, as Immordino-Yang proved in her groundbreaking fMRI study on emotions and learning (Immordino-Yang et al., 2019). Studies on arts-integrated education (New York, 2010) demonstrate positive results across the board, including deepened academic knowledge and understanding of participants’ own and others’ experiences. Art and artmaking benefit numerous cognitive functions (Magro, 2024), including critical and conceptual thinking, problem solving, language acquisition, and literacy development (Magro, 2024). In addition, research shows artmaking directly corresponds with confidence building, multicultural awareness, and stimulating imagination (Jehlen, 2008). Educators recognize its usefulness in building bridges between prior knowledge and academic content and are calling for the universal language of the arts and artistic literacies to be central to learning pedagogy (Dickson & Clover, 2021).

Beyond the power of arts to transcend languages, cultures, and learning barriers, expressive arts offer somatic and sensory interventions to regulate emotions (Malchiodi & Perry, 2014). Additionally, colour and texture relieve the stress on the survival brain, which plays a crucial role in learning and memory (Hass-Cohen, 2008). Recounting a traumatic event in a language other than the heart language, or mother tongue, can itself be healing (Busch & McNamara, 2020). Drawing on less traditional forms of communication, such as the arts, allows for expression when the “sayable” reaches a limit (Busch & McNamara, 2020). The artistic modalities effectively calm the nervous system, lower cortisol levels, which helps reduce stress, release oxytocin, externalize painful events to mitigate their effects, regulate heartbeat, improve mood, increase confidence and motivation, allow students to create meaningful education, and much more (Yeo Peterman, 2020). Using expressive arts for language teaching and learning can result in an engaging learning environment for rich cognitive, affective, and social development.
Research clearly demonstrates the learning and healing benefits of art in the learning environment, but we are seeing it firsthand. Since 2020, we have partnered with a global non-profit, Beyond Borders, to develop an arts-based curriculum. This English language curriculum follows a trauma-informed approach drawing on expressive arts and peacebuilding principles, facilitating well-being on personal and communal levels. The curriculum is designed for use in refugee settlements and other conflict-ridden contexts. Aligned with the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages (CEFR), it is currently being piloted in refugee settlements in Greece, Moldova, Iraq, and with settled refugees in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. As students engage with the multi-modal material, narrated by characters who look like them and who face similar obstacles and joys, reports from educators show data that is encouraging on a social-emotional and language aptitude level. Educators who use these materials also find relief from symptoms of compassion fatigue.

However, educators have also expressed concerns and confusion about how they can integrate expressive arts into language learning. Aside from the practical hurdles, some have expressed worry about inviting emotions they are unprepared to manage. These legitimate concerns are an example of the need for trauma-informed training in education, overall.
“As a teacher educator in an MA TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) program in Winnipeg, I teach a course called ‘Arts for Learning and Healing.’ Students are all international from various countries in Asia, Africa, and South America, far away from their families and home communities. Topics in the syllabus include those I have learned in my post-graduate diploma in Expressive Arts: creative movement, sounds, storytelling and silence. The purpose of the course is to guide these prospective teachers in integrating expressive arts elements into English Language Teaching. I invite you to step into the classroom on a cold February afternoon. We have already covered the topic of Creative Movement and are now moving into the topic of Storytelling. To begin the class, my colleague and I invite the 25 students to stand in a circle around the room. We begin with an activity that, in TESOL terms, is a drama game. Each student is invited to step into the circle and say something, anything, about themselves. If others find themselves in a comparable situation, they are invited to step into the circle as well.
“I begin by modeling. I step into the circle and say, ‘I feel cold.’ Several students step into the circle with me. Someone says, ‘I feel hungry.’ A few students step into the circle. A student says, ‘I really miss my family, and I wish I could go home.’ There is an audible sigh of recognition, and everyone steps into the circle. There is a palpable change in the room. The students look at one another, giving themselves permission to make visible the homesickness in their eyes. After this short activity, I ask the students how they experienced this creative movement/storytelling exercise. ‘It was such a relief,’ said one student, ‘to hear those words spoken out loud in class.’ ‘We are all in this situation and it is so difficult to be far away from our families.’ ‘This activity helped me to feel safe in this group.’ Together with teachers and students around the world, we are figuring out that thin space where we meet as language teachers, but even more so, as human beings who need others as witnesses to our lives.”
– Elfrieda Lepp-Kaethler

We are finding that learning happens best when we return to our ancient human instincts of preserving our cultures and ourselves: to tell our stories through art, music, drama, laughter, community, and sometimes, silence.
Reference
- Dickinson, D. (1997). Learning through the arts. New Horizons for Learning.

Elfrieda Lepp-Kaethler (Phd. Psycholinguistics, University of Nottingham, UK, Diploma in Expressive Arts Therapy) has worked as a language teacher, teacher educator and expressive arts consultant educator in many countries including Paraguay, Ukraine, China, The Philippines, Moldova and Greece. On faculty at Providence University College since 2000, she has directed the M.A. TESOL and M.Ed. TESOL programs since 2006.

Katy Maria Shimp (M.Ed. TESOL, Providence University College) has worked as a language teacher in Canada and Brazil, and as a programs coordinator providing education with refugee populations, developing and delivering trauma-sensitive training, and writing arts-based curriculum. She has been a teacher educator on faculty at Providence University College since 2021.