Designing Spaces That Heal: How Trauma-Informed Environments Support Staff, Students & Communities
- Shenandoah Chefalo
- 5 hours ago
- 8 min read
Editor’s Note from Shenandoah Chefalo
At Chefalo Consulting, we often talk about how policies, practices, and leadership behaviors can either support or overwhelm the nervous systems of the people who work, learn, and heal inside our organizations. What we talk about less—but experience every single day—is how the physical spaces we occupy shape that same nervous system response.
In this guest post, trauma-informed design specialist Katie Titi introduces how the built environment can either tax or support staff, students, clients, and communities across workplaces, government, healthcare, and education. This article serves as a foundation for a potential series on specific design strategies such as acoustics, lighting, and materials. I invite you to read with your own spaces in mind and notice what ideas spark your curiosity.

Whether you’re leading a school, running a municipal department, coordinating a nonprofit team, or supporting individuals in correctional or healthcare settings, one truth remains constant:
The spaces we work in either support our nervous systems — or tax them.
In today’s landscape, our shared environments are carrying extraordinary levels of stress, urgency, and emotional intensity.
Educators are navigating heightened burnout.¹
Public-sector staff are operating under chronic workplace strain and elevated compassion fatigue.²
Healthcare workers are experiencing significant levels of physical exhaustion and burnout.³
Corrections personnel face ongoing concerns related to physical safety, injury, and overall wellness.⁴
At the same time, students, patients, clients, and community members are arriving with more complex needs, trauma histories, sensory differences, and fewer emotionally safe spaces to decompress.
Space has never been neutral.
It has always shaped the nervous system.
What’s changing now is that the science behind this truth is finally being widely recognized — and more institutions are beginning to design with that reality in mind.
I’m a built-environment well-being strategist and trauma-informed design specialist. My work centers on helping individuals and teams transform everyday environments into supportive, nervous-system-safe spaces grounded in evidence-based design psychology.
This first section introduces the physiological foundations of trauma-informed design — and why these principles matter across workplaces, government, nonprofits, healthcare, and education.

Trauma-Informed Design Begins With Human Physiology
Many people think of “design” as something visual and aspirational — a paint color, a floor plan, a choice of materials. But in reality, the environments we enter every day shape us in ways we don’t always consciously register. They influence:
how safe we feel in our bodies
how we process information
how we communicate
how quickly we fatigue or recover
Most environments are designed for efficiency. Few are designed for nervous-system regulation.
Environmental psychology, neuroscience, and evidence-based design research consistently show that the built environment influences:
heart rate
cortisol levels
learning and memory
attention and focus
emotional regulation
communication patterns
behavior and perceived safety
In classrooms, auditory and visual distractions are associated with increased inattentive or off-task behavior, especially among neurodivergent students.⁵ In public-sector work, sustained job demands and emotional strain are linked to elevated burnout and compassion fatigue.⁶ Among U.S. nurses, higher occupational noise exposure is associated with increased stress, burnout, and reduced professional quality of life.⁷
Across all settings, environmental factors act as either stress amplifiers or stress dampeners.
Which means design is not simply aesthetic — it is neurological.

Trauma-informed design asks one core question:
How do we support the nervous systems of the people who experience this space every day?
Below are a few common environmental design strategies and how they translate into practice.
Legible, Predictable Wayfinding Design
→ reduces cognitive load → decreases navigation errors and disorientation → associated with lower spatial anxiety → encourages more efficient movement through space⁸
What this suggests: Confusing layouts force the brain into constant problem-solving mode, which elevates stress and fatigue and can increase safety risks when people are distracted or rushed.
Food for thought: Where in your building do people most often pause, hesitate, or ask for directions — and what does that reveal about hidden cognitive load?
Possible applications: Clear circulation paths; visually distinct zones (e.g., “public,” “staff,” “client”); consistent, plain-language signage; and logical room sequencing in offices, clinics, schools, and public buildings — all helping people navigate more calmly, quickly, and safely.
Sensory-Calming Colors in the Built Environment
→ lower autonomic arousal → support emotional and nervous-system regulation⁹
What this suggests: Color directly influences physiological arousal, not just mood.
Food for thought: Which spaces in your facility feel visually “activating” versus “settling” — and how does that align (or clash) with their intended use?
Possible applications: Low-saturation palettes in high-stress settings; reduced visual contrast in corridors and waiting areas; and color cues that signal “rest,” “focus,” or “activation” in different zones.
Biophilic Elements
→ reduce cortisol and blood pressure → improve mood and psychological well-being¹⁰
What this suggests: The nervous system responds positively to natural patterns, textures, and rhythms.
Food for thought: Where may people currently get visual or sensory relief from the built environment through nature imagery — and where is it completely absent?
Possible applications: Indoor plants (vetted against policy and allergy needs); natural materials like wood or stone; outdoor views (real or high-quality simulated); and nature-referencing textures and artwork in hallways, offices, classrooms, and waiting areas.
Circadian Rhythm-Supportive Lighting
→ improves sleep quality and reduces sleepiness → supports alertness and vigilance → supports mood stability¹¹
What this suggests: Light can be a biological regulator — not just a question of “can we see?”
Food for thought: Which spaces in your organization receive consistent natural light — and which rely almost entirely on artificial illumination?
Possible applications: Daylight-maximizing layouts; window treatments that diffuse rather than block light; and tunable circadian-mimicking lighting systems in workplaces, hospitals, and 24-hour environments.
Layouts That Enhance Visibility & Natural Surveillance
→ reduce fear of crime and perceived risk → increase perceived safety among occupants¹²
What this suggests: Clear visibility supports neurological safety without requiring intrusive oversight.
Food for thought: Where do people seem most alert, guarded, masking, or hyper-vigilant in your space — and what do sightlines reveal there?
Possible applications: Clear sightlines in corridors and lobbies; open but bounded spaces with options for refuge (e.g., backed seating); minimized blind corners; and transparent or low-height partitions that maintain visibility while respecting privacy.
Reduced Auditory Clutter & Environmental Noise
→ decrease sensory overload and distraction → improve attention and cognitive performance → reduce cognitive fatigue¹³
What this suggests: Chronic background noise quietly chips away at regulation and focus.
Food for thought: At what times of day does sound become most overwhelming in your environment — and for whom? How does this seem to modify occupants’ behavior?
Possible applications: Acoustically rated wall and ceiling panels; soft finishes like rugs and upholstered seating; white-noise strategies in some environments; and clear zoning of quiet vs. active spaces.
Micro-Retreat / Refuge Space Zones
→ support emotional down-regulation → support stress reduction → improve psychological well-being¹⁴
What this suggests: Having a place to pause — even for a few minutes — can prevent cumulative overload.
Food for thought: Where can someone go, right now, to pause without leaving the building entirely?
Possible applications: Staff decompression rooms or nooks; quiet spaces in libraries, schools, and community centers; low-stimulus rooms in healthcare, corrections, and social-service settings; and small, intentionally furnished areas for brief nervous-system reset.
Soft Nature-Based Acoustics & Sound Buffering
→ reduce physiological stress → support nervous-system recovery and emotional calm → improve sleep quality¹⁵
What this suggests: Both the level and quality of sound are powerful inputs to the autonomic nervous system.
Food for thought: What is the dominant background sound in your space — and is it restorative or abrasive?
Possible applications: Upholstered furnishings and sound-absorptive finishes in shared spaces; acoustic treatments in staff areas and patient or resident rooms; quiet recovery zones; and, where appropriate, access to nature-based soundscapes.
Choice & Control Within a Space
→ improved psychological well-being → enhanced sense of personal agency and purpose¹⁶
What this suggests: Autonomy is stabilizing for the nervous system.
Food for thought: Where do occupants currently have real environmental choice — and where is everything fixed? How does that impact the user experience?
Possible applications: Adjustable lighting and window coverings; multiple workspace types (e.g., collaboration tables, quiet pods, standing options); movable furniture; access to both open and enclosed seating; personalized micro-environments for staff; and mobile visual boundaries.

Why Designing the Environment for the Nervous System Matters
When we design with human physiology in mind, we stop guessing — and begin creating spaces that actively help people function, regulate, recover, connect, and thrive.
The same square footage can either undermine or amplify our best efforts in education, healthcare, public service, and community work. Trauma-informed, evidence-aligned design simply asks us to let the nervous system into the conversation — and then shape space accordingly.

Closing Reflection & Next Steps
Trauma-informed design does not start with furniture or floor plans. It starts with one foundational question:
What does the nervous system need in order to feel safe enough to function well here?
When leadership teams, planners, designers, and administrators bring that question into conversations about classrooms, offices, lobbies, waiting rooms, and staff areas, something powerful happens. The environment stops being an afterthought and becomes a quiet partner in regulation, communication, and recovery.
The same square footage can either drain or replenish the people who move through it every day. By designing with human physiology in mind, we can create spaces that make it easier—not harder—for staff, students, clients, and community members to show up as resourced, present versions of themselves.
As you reflect on your own organization, you might begin with just one space: a staff room that rarely feels restful, a corridor that always feels hectic, or a shared office that never quite supports focus. Ask:
• How might this space feel if it were calmer, clearer, or more intuitive to navigate?
• What small change could we test that would better support the nervous systems of the people who use it?
This article offers a foundation. Future pieces in this potential series will explore specific design mechanisms—such as acoustics, lighting, and materials—in more detail, with bite-sized strategies you can adapt to your context.
At Chefalo Consulting, we support organizations in building trauma-informed, human-centered systems—from culture and leadership practices to the environments where people work and receive care. When it’s helpful, we also collaborate with specialists in trauma-informed design to help teams align their physical spaces with their values.
If your school, department, or organization is ready to connect the dots between trauma-informed practice and the spaces you inhabit, we’d love to be part of that conversation.
About the Author
Katie Titi is a built-environment well-being strategist and trauma-informed design specialist. She helps healers, creatives, and mission-driven organizations transform stressful or outdated spaces into calming, intuitive environments grounded in evidence-based design psychology.
Katie also partners with schools, government departments, healthcare organizations, and nonprofits to align their physical spaces with nervous-system-safe, trauma-informed practice.
Learn more about her work at http://katietiti.com/ or connect with her at info@katietiti.com.
Footnotes
RAND Corporation. (2023). Teacher burnout and well-being report.
American Psychological Association. (2022). Work and Well-Being Survey.
CDC/NIOSH. (2024). Healthcare worker burnout and fatigue report.
U.S. Department of Justice/Office of Justice Programs. (2023). Correctional officer stress, turnover, and wellness report.
Staff et al. (2023). Classroom sensory distraction and neurodivergent learning.
Hale et al. (2024). Burnout, stress and compassion fatigue for social workers and case managers.
McCullagh et al. (2022). Noise exposure, stress, burnout, and quality of life for healthcare workers.
Jamshidi et al. (2020). Wayfinding support and spatial cognition.
Bower et al. (2021). Built-environment color and autonomic response.
Goncalves et al. (2023). Restorative effects of biophilia in the workplace.
Scott et al. (2024). Circadian lighting benefits at work.
Shariati et al. (2019). Perception of safety and visibility in the built environment.
Jafari et al. (2019). Environmental noise and cognitive performance.
Yan et al. (2024). Healing spaces and emotional regulation.
Fietze et al. (2016). Room acoustics and sleep quality.
Jagannath et al. (2024). Flexibility of space and psychological wellbeing.