Effects of domestic violence and sexual abuse on STEM academic performance in four case studies

For many students, the path to a career in science, technology, engineering, or mathematics is viewed as a rigorous test of intellect and logic. These fields demand intense focus, the ability to solve complex problems, and the stamina to endure long hours of study. However, this academic journey does not happen in a vacuum. It takes place within the lives of real people, whose minds and bodies are shaped by their environments long before they step into a university lecture hall. When a student grows up in a home filled with fear, shouting, or physical harm, the brain adapts to survive that danger. This adaptation, known as trauma, changes how a person thinks, feels, and processes information. It can make it difficult to concentrate, remember facts, or trust others. While educators often look at grades and test scores to judge a student's ability, they may miss the heavy psychological weight that a student is carrying. This disconnect can lead to a situation where a student's struggle is mistaken for a lack of talent, when in reality, it is a reaction to a hostile environment that makes learning nearly impossible.

A recent study conducted by researchers at Tecnológico Nacional de México seeks to understand exactly how this hidden burden affects students in engineering programs. The researchers focused on four specific students—two men and two women—who were navigating the demanding world of engineering while carrying the scars of domestic violence. The goal was not to diagnose these students with medical conditions, but to listen to their stories and understand how violence shapes their learning. The team conducted in-depth interviews, asking the students to describe the physical, emotional, and social effects of the violence they had experienced. They also asked what could be done to help, both by the students themselves and by the institutions meant to support them. By looking closely at these four lives, the researchers aimed to reveal the invisible barriers that prevent talented students from succeeding, not because they lack ability, but because their minds are occupied with survival.

The stories of these four students reveal a stark reality: violence does not stay at home; it follows them into the classroom. One male student, who grew up in a household where his mother frequently screamed at him and physically assaulted him, learned to associate his grades with his safety. He believed that if he did not achieve perfect scores, he would face punishment at home. This fear drove him to work himself to the point of exhaustion, often skipping sleep to work two jobs while studying. The result was not success, but a state of constant panic. During exams, his mind would go blank, and he would experience chest pains so severe he had to use breathing exercises just to finish the test. He described feeling like a distant, cold person, unable to connect with classmates because the stress of his home life made him feel that he was the problem.

Another student, a young woman, faced a different but equally devastating form of abuse. She was sexually abused by a family member starting at age nine, a trauma that left her feeling confused and blamed for something that was not her fault. When she finally spoke up, her family initially dismissed her, and later, some relatives turned against her, calling her crazy or dramatic. This betrayal made it incredibly hard for her to trust anyone. In the classroom, the stress of legal proceedings and the fear of encountering her abuser caused her to freeze. She would often leave exams unfinished because intrusive thoughts and anxiety attacks overwhelmed her. Despite these immense hurdles, she managed to reach the final stages of her degree, fueled by the support of her grandmother and a few close friends who believed in her.

The other two students shared similar struggles. One young man grew up in a home where his parents fought violently, often hitting each other and him with objects. This environment led to chronic depression and multiple suicide attempts. He became so afraid of conflict that he stopped speaking up in class, terrified that any disagreement would trigger violence. He felt disconnected from his peers, unable to ask for help or share his ideas. The fourth student, a young woman, was abused by her mother's partner. The legal process to seek justice was exhausting and re-traumatizing, and she faced judgment from therapists who did not take her seriously. In the classroom, she found that her classmates often mocked her when she asked for help, making her feel isolated and unworthy.

When the researchers looked at these four stories together, a clear pattern emerged. All four students had initially normalized their violent environments, not realizing how abnormal their situations were until they compared them to others. The violence had drained their mental energy, leaving them with little capacity to focus on complex engineering problems. They all suffered from physical symptoms like insomnia, loss of appetite, and fatigue, which further degraded their ability to learn. Perhaps most importantly, the study found that the students' academic struggles were not due to a lack of intelligence, but rather a direct result of their trauma occupying the mental space needed for learning.

The students also highlighted a critical gap in how universities handle these situations. They reported that professors often seemed unaware of the invisible battles their students were fighting. The students suggested that simple acts of empathy, such as a teacher asking how a student is doing, could make a significant difference. They called for more trained mental health professionals on campus, noting that having only two psychologists for thousands of students was insufficient. They also emphasized the need for support groups where they could share their experiences without fear of judgment. For the women in the study, the trauma of sexual abuse created a specific barrier of mistrust toward men, making it difficult to work in teams or feel safe in a classroom dominated by male peers.

The findings suggest that the current way of evaluating engineering students is flawed. By focusing solely on grades and technical performance, institutions often miss the root causes of a student's failure. The study indicates that trauma acts as a continuous drain on a student's cognitive resources, making it harder to solve problems, concentrate, or remember information. This is especially true for female students, who face the added burden of gender stereotypes and the specific trauma of sexual violence. The researchers conclude that for these students to succeed, the educational system must change. It needs to move beyond simply teaching engineering concepts and start creating a safe, supportive environment where students feel heard and understood. Without this shift, talented students will continue to drop out or struggle, not because they cannot do the work, but because the work is being asked of them while they are still trying to survive their past.