
Stories of extraordinary individuals appear often: the student who escaped grinding poverty to enter an elite university, the single mother who rebuilt her life after years of violence and the middle-aged man who clawed his way out of bankruptcy to become a successful entrepreneur. Their triumphs are showcased widely, from congratulatory banners to prime-time news. Seen as model citizens, their lives supposedly prove the power of resilience. However, three American scholars in the field of trauma and resilience helped deepen my understanding of this phenomenon.
George Bonanno, a professor of clinical psychology at Columbia University, defines resilience as stable, healthy psychological and physical function following a traumatic event, rather than a quick or dramatic recovery.
Rachel Yehuda, the director of the traumatic stress studies division at the Mount Sinai School of Medicine, conceptualizes resilience as a process of adaptive movement forward after adversity, shaped by insight, meaning-making and deliberate action. This process reflects the ability to function, grow or integrate experiences in new ways even as difficulties remain.
Ann Masten, a professor at the Institute of Child Development at the University of Minnesota, asserts that resilience arises not from inner strength but from everyday systems that make adaptation possible. Her work shows that resilience grows when people have access to protective resources such as predictable routines, emotional support and environments that foster competence. What appears extraordinary from the outside is, in fact, the result of ordinary conditions that nurture resilience.
One of the clearest demonstrations of their ideas comes from the famous Kauai Study. In 1955, psychologists Emmy Werner and Ruth Smith began following all children born that year on the Hawaiian island of Kauai, tracking them into adulthood. Many of these children were exposed to chronic poverty, parental conflict or prenatal complications. In childhood, some struggled academically or behaviorally. But over time, a significant portion of these “high-risk” children grew into competent, caring and resilient adults.
What made the difference was not temperament or willpower alone, but the steady presence of at least one caring adult — someone who believed in them, offered guidance and provided emotional safety. In other words, resilience was nurtured through connection rather than individual exceptionalism.
If resilience grows through support, each of us has the capacity to nurture it in others. Sometimes resilience begins with a single person who listens nonjudgmentally, shares wisdom, provides structure or instills hope. Mentorship, listening, affirmation and a consistent presence are not extraordinary interventions, but everyday care that strengthens a person’s belief in the possibility of change.
By supporting others, we also help them develop better self-awareness to recognize both their internal strengths and the external resources available to them. People facing adversity often experience tunnel vision, unable to see options or possibilities. A supportive person can widen that view.
The effects of this support are reflected in the mind itself. The human brain is not static but continually shaped by experience. Neuroplasticity allows the brain to rewire itself in response to learning, relationships and repeated patterns of thought. Just as muscles strengthen with repeated exercise, our neural pathways strengthen in the direction of what we practice. Nurturing environments help people orient their attention toward possibility rather than defeat, allowing more hopeful internal narratives to take shape over time.
If resilience can be nurtured, the question is not who is resilient, but what allows resilience to grow and how we can build those supports. Once we understand resilience as a relational and contextual process rather than an outcome of inner toughness, our focus shifts. The questions we ask change from “Why aren’t you trying harder?” to “What support do you need?”
The implications are profound. Instead of demanding more resilience from those already overburdened by adversity, we can act together to build systems that enable more people to thrive. When we build families, schools and communities that sustain people, resilience becomes less about individual struggle and more about collective stewardship of one another’s well-being, so that no one has to struggle alone.
Ma Kyung-hee is an editor and researcher in Seoul.