Best Practice

Safeguarding & disclosures: What to do if a student turns to you...

The abuse that Rachel W experienced as a child continued for years until she finally disclosed at school. In this powerful article, she discusses her experience of disclosure, the barriers she faced, and what school staff must do if a student turns to them for help...


The definition of disclosure is: “The action of making new or secret information known.”

But what if you are conditioned through emotional abuse to believe that sexual and physical abuse is an immutable part of growing up? What if threats to kill are so ingrained, that courage and bravery are only discovered for self-preservation? What if everything feels wrong, but you’re told that it is right?

In my last article for SecEd, I wrote about my story of the abuse I suffered as a child, its impact on my life and education, and how I finally managed to disclose at age 14 despite the barriers I faced. I want to focus now specifically on disclosure.


The difficulty of disclosure

I remember returning to school after needing major surgery for an abuse-related trauma. The school nurse wanted to talk to me. When she asked questions my body filled with the heat of fear, my brain filled with fog. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t understand what she wanted. She looked at my body then sent me to lessons. The fear and fog remained with me for the rest of the day.

When I got home there were social workers there, in front of the perpetrator. Instantly I felt that I’d done something wrong. I felt like I was in deep trouble. I froze, utterly horrified.

I can’t remember much more of that moment, apart from being asked in front of the perpetrator if he had been hurting me. I had no words and remember shaking my head at a rapid pace: No.

I literally couldn’t move; my entire body went numb. Innately, I knew there was going to be trouble because of the way he was looking at me. The social workers left and soon after he started shouting.

I won’t describe what happened next as it may disturb your working day. But I nearly lost my life.



Articles from Rachel W

  • I'm stood in front of you, about to make my first disclosure – and I’m terrified (Published February 8, 2023)
  • Safeguarding & disclosures: What to do if a student turns to you (this article)


They didn’t persist

I was only nine-years-old when I was questioned. It wasn’t until I was aged 14 that I was taken into emergency foster care – after enduring five more years of hell on earth.

I was subsequently introduced to the social worker who had questioned me back then – my response was reactive-expressive. Thankfully she didn't take that any further.

As an adult, I saw my doctor’s notes regarding suspicion of sexual and physical abuse. I’ve often wondered how the professionals back then didn’t continue to investigate – maybe they were as scared as I was?

There were an immeasurable number of barriers to my disclosure – the first being that I didn’t know it was wrong, the second being fear of everything and everyone.

There has been much research over the years into how children disclose abuse, and the evidence tells us that as many as two in three abuse victims are not able to disclose during their childhood.

As you will know, all professionals who work with children and young people have a legal obligation to be vigilant for signs of abuse. It is your responsibility to report and respond to these signs and you should report any concerns you have no matter how minimal the signs of abuse seem.

As government guidance states: “You should make sure that you are alert to the signs of abuse and neglect, that you question the behaviour of children and parents/carers and don’t necessarily take what you are told at face value.” (DfE, 2015)


What not do to

My first experience of a “professional intervention” can be used as a lesson in what not to do. The story I recounted above, when you boil it down, is shocking:

A child at high risk of severe harm being sent home despite someone suspecting serious harm has occurred and only being afforded the opportunity to speak out when in front of the perpetrator. And thus being left with the devastating consequences. No follow-up. No communication. No further investigation.

And there were definitely continued signs of abuse as witnessed by my educators over the subsequent five years.


What to do

As a professional myself now, I have been honoured with the trust of a pupil’s disclosure at the end of a very long day. You know, one of those days where you would quite like to make a sharp exit…

It took quite a while to convince the leadership team to take immediate action – to stay on, into the night, as social workers and police investigated, keeping the pupil safe in the school environment.

Thankfully, with the pupil’s trust and swift action of professionals, they were protected and no longer subjected to serious, physical harm.

When it comes to disclosures, going above and beyond is often what is required from educators, particularly in a situation regarding safeguarding.

When this falls on your shoulders just as you’re hoping to escape for the day, or the weekend, or the term, just remember: your actions could potentially save a pupil’s life; your inaction could potentially lead to many more years of suffering.

Doing nothing is never an option.

A multi-disciplinary team effort was required to surround this pupil and to bring them to safety. The pupil subsequently felt heard, believed, safer and was able to disclose further the heinous nature of the abuse that they had endured and were enduring.

Disclosure is rarely a clear, direct, or full statement, where a pupil will sit down and tell you everything. A pupil is more likely to display harm caused through behaviour shown or non-verbal, indirect communication. These disclosures can either be intentional but can also be inadvertent.

Either way, disclosure isn't a one-time thing. It isn’t “job done” the first time you’re shown or told about harm. It is a substantial journey in my experience, potentially lasting into adulthood.

The relationships and type of connection you build with your students is the foundation for any potential disclosure, no matter how that disclosure can be conveyed. Remember, children who are being abused are often deeply intuitive and empathic.


Your body language (usually first to be noticed)

My first disclosure was made to the deputy headteacher. He appeared to me to be a strong contender to keep me safe.

He would often give eye-contact and convey a sense that he was listening. He rarely appeared angry, never folded his arms, and quite simply had a respectful confidence about him.

I don’t ever remember a raised voice and he never called me names like “stupid” or “stinky”. He didn’t roll his eyes like some of the other teachers would, particularly when I stuttered or couldn't find words. There wasn’t a sense of urgency or being “too busy” about him. I felt deserving of his time and his behaviour was consistent.

I didn’t fear him. The deputy became the first “safe enough” adult in my life. The first to really listen.


Your verbal communication

Tone of voice was always at the forefront of how I would feel about a teacher. Constant yelling, signs of frustration or lack of control absolutely terrified me. I would always fear that the anger would lead to more.

I didn’t trust or understand sarcasm and jargon. It felt the same as the continuous put-downs, such as “grow up”, “stupid”, “daft”, “stinky”, “thicko”…

I felt I could understand smaller sentences, often repeated. What I was unable to catch the first time I’d be more likely to understand the second.

I wasn’t stupid or daft, I was in a trauma response – flight, freeze, fawn (fight was never really my go-to).

Children who are experiencing or who have traumatic experiences often have communication difficulties. They may struggle to concentrate and absorb information. This in itself is an indirect, inadvertent disclosure, particularly if a student used to concentrate and absorb information.

Clear, brief, consistent communication with honesty, patience and tolerance is a good move toward building the trust that encourages disclosures.


What to do if a child is not ready or disclosure is inadvertent?

As discussed, a child may accidentally disclose or you may see warning signs, but the child may not want to discuss them.

  • Don’t worry. Make yourself accessible. Make sure that the child or young person knows they can talk to you. Make sure they know who else they might talk to.
  • Observe and notice. Is the child or young person showing cause for concern? Remember at all times that behaviour is communication.
  • Ensure you remember your safeguarding training and can recognise signs of abuse. If you are unsure about any specific areas, ask your designated safeguarding lead for training and advice.
  • Report any signs or suspicions, any cause for concern, anything the child or young person may have said, ambiguous or not.
  • Record all information (remember that it could be needed as legal documentation further down the line).
  • Consider whether systems in place in school for children to report abuse are accessible for children with differing needs and/or disabilities.
  • DO NOT ignore any warning signs – if something doesn't feel right, it may not be. Ask the child or young person directly. Be confident to do so.

And remember, if a child or young person comes to you lacking words and unable to form sentences, create time and space for them. They may not know what to say at first, but they will know whether you are listening or not. Be prepared to simply listen on as many occasions as is required.

  • Rachel W has a wealth of experience both personally and professionally in education, fostering, residential childcare and as an instructor for managing challenging behaviours within these settings. Rachel is an abuse survivor, thriver and currently the managing director of Animal Assisted Therapy for young people.


Also from this author

SecEd: “I'm stood in front of you, about to make my first disclosure – and I’m terrified”, February 2023: http://bit.ly/3Lg0qRf

Further reading