Confronting the Past: Why Ignoring History Won't Heal Our Wounds

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This article takes a slightly different approach than usual. Some of my readers have asked, “Why not stop discussing the painful parts of history and just let them heal?”

It’s a valid question, but the answer goes beyond simply revisiting the past. The truth is, that avoiding trauma—whether it’s personal or historical—does not make it go away. Trauma does not heal on its own.

In fact, ignoring it allows it to fester and reemerge in more harmful and destructive ways.

That’s why I write about ancient history, biblical archaeology, and similar topics. These stories hold valuable lessons for us all. Some parts of this article may feel repetitive, but I aim to present these ideas in a way that’s accessible to readers from all backgrounds and educational levels. I appreciate your patience as we explore these critical concepts together.

Anyway, in difficult moments in our collective past, these stories matter, not just as lessons in the timeline of human existence, but as reflections of ourselves. I spent almost three decades (30 years) working in mental health as a trauma therapist, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that trauma never disappears just because we stop talking about it. In the same way that personal trauma manifests in individuals as anxiety, depression, and self-destruction, historical trauma seeps into the fabric of society, shaping the way nations and communities evolve.

When we ignore history—when we don’t confront its brutal realities—it manifests in different ways. Societies are much like individuals.

• If a person doesn’t process their trauma, they repeat unhealthy patterns, like getting involved in toxic relationships or engaging in self-harm.
• Nations do the same thing. Historical traumas, such as racism, slavery, and systemic oppression, remain present in modern systems, quietly influencing everything from politics to economics.

We cannot move forward without first facing where we’ve come from. This is why I wrote articles like “The Real History and Legacy of the Ku Klux Klan” and “The Ingenious Art of Freedom: How Slave Women Used Braids as Escape Routes”—to shed light on past horrors that continue to echo today.

When some suggest that revisiting history only keeps old wounds open, I respectfully disagree. It’s not about reopening the wound—it’s about cleaning it out so that it can finally heal properly. I don’t write to stir up old pains. Instead, I write to help us understand why these pains still persist today. By acknowledging and addressing them, we can finally begin to heal.

Societies, like individuals, need to process their trauma, or they remain trapped in cycles of harm and dysfunction. Ignoring historical trauma won’t make it disappear; instead, it seeps into the cracks, leading to ongoing discrimination, inequality, and the rise of extremism, as seen in “Rise Above Movement: Exploring Extremism and the Influence of Robert Rundo”.

Just as unhealed trauma can appear in the form of depression or addiction in individuals, historical trauma can show itself in societal unrest, political polarization, and even generational poverty, as discussed in “The Consequences of Entitlement Programs: Single Mother Households and Generational Poverty.” Both personal and collective traumas leave deep marks that can’t just be glossed over. It’s only through acknowledgment and understanding that we can break these cycles.

Some of the most painful chapters in our history—such as the slavery that shaped this country, or the forced displacement of Indigenous peoples—aren’t topics we can afford to forget. Articles like “Tuskegee Deception: How America Sacrificed Black Lives for Medical Progress” reveal how far-reaching and devastating these traumas were and still are.

Refusing to engage with these topics allows ignorance to persist and wounds to fester, unchecked and misunderstood.

I also do not write to divide or provoke. I write because history teaches us what personal trauma does: silence is not healing. Ignoring trauma is not progress. Acknowledging history—especially its darkest chapters—is not about reliving the pain, but about learning from it. Healing, whether personal or societal, only comes when we confront what hurts us, learn from it, and take steps to move forward in a more compassionate and informed way.

When we say, "Let’s stop talking about it and let it heal," we misunderstand how trauma works. It doesn’t heal with silence. It heals through understanding, empathy, and change.

We also honor the strength and resilience of our ancestors by telling their stories. They endured immense hardships, and it is through their perseverance that we stand here today. We respect their legacy not by forgetting, but by remembering and learning from what they endured. Their struggles have given us the resilience we carry forward, and by sharing their experiences, we keep their spirit alive.

Rewriting historical facts, renaming historical products, and attempting to cancel our history is a dangerous trend that distorts reality and prevents us from learning valuable lessons. For example, the ongoing debates in 2023-2024 over renaming schools or monuments tied to controversial figures, while rooted in noble intentions, risk erasing the complexity of the past. History is messy, and by sanitizing or altering it, we fail to confront the truth of what happened and why. The removal of books and censorship of certain historical events in school curriculums further widen the gap in understanding, as seen in debates around teaching slavery or the Holocaust. Instead of canceling uncomfortable parts of our history, we should confront them honestly, recognizing both the dark and triumphant moments, so that we can learn and grow as a society.

Ignoring or rewriting the past only dooms us to repeat its mistakes.

Instead of focusing solely on what our ancestors endured, we can shift the narrative to highlight their strength and resilience. Take, for example, the women who used their braids as escape maps during slavery, or the Jewish survivors of the Holocaust who rebuilt their lives after unimaginable horrors. These stories aren’t just about suffering—they’re about courage, survival, and the strength to persevere against all odds. In telling their stories, we honor them and show that their legacy is more than their hardships; it’s the resilience they passed down to us.

Finally, I write because my hope is that these stories can inspire a sense of humanity and compassion for our fellow human beings in a world that often feels cold and indifferent. By understanding where we come from and acknowledging the strength of those who came before us, we can better shape a more compassionate and connected future.

By acknowledging the trauma of the past, we empower future generations with the tools they need to build a more just and compassionate world. Just as my work with trauma patients helped them uncover and heal their wounds, my writing on historical trauma is intended to help society do the same. Ignoring the past does not erase its impact—it only delays the inevitable reckoning. And as history shows us, those who do not learn from it are doomed to repeat it. Let’s not wait for history to repeat itself. Let’s face it head-on, learn from it, and build a better future together.

And that’s why I write.

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