Voices from Our Community: I Got You Series

Aditya is a trauma-informed educator and former robotics engineer who spent over six years conducting robotics research in Singapore and Switzerland before transitioning into education. His initial co-founding of robotics education startup Whyte Labs and working with children drove a deep curiosity around children’s emotional states and its impact on their ability to learn and express themselves. 

This led him to dive deeper into personal healing and childhood development and founding The Sensitive Teacher, where he now works with families and educators to create supportive safe spaces where learning, connection and creativity can flourish. Here he shares about the impact of holding space, and learning new ways of showing up for children that help build their resilience…

Describe a significant moment or time when you were able to show up for someone and say  ‘I got you’?

I remember the time one of my students, a 7-year-old boy, had a massive meltdown in class. He was completely overwhelmed, yelling, banging on the walls, convinced he was being bullied—even though it was very clear that none of the other kids were being mean to him. Something about the way the other kids were interacting had triggered something deep in him, probably an emotional wound from school.

I could see how much pain and fear he was in, and instead of trying to stop him or reason with him, I just slowed down. I kneeled next to him, looked at him softly, gently placed a hand on his back, another in front of his chest—not blocking him, just letting him know, “Hey, I’m here.” I asked him softly, “Has someone hurt you?”

And in that moment, he felt deeply seen. He turned to me, his face still red, and the rage melted into sadness. His whole body softened, and the tears started flowing. I held him for a while, letting him know, “You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you. I’m with you.” And that was all he needed in the moment.

What surprised me was how natural it felt for me to show up for him like that. Because I had spent years doing my own inner work, having met my own inner child’s anger and pain, and so I wasn’t afraid of his. I didn’t see his meltdown as something to fix—just an opportunity for his inner pain to be met, and offered kind support. And in that witnessing, he found safety. He found release. That moment felt really profound.

In your journey as co-founder of robotics education startup Whyte Labs and now The Sensitive Teacher helping kids and adults grow holistically, what is one unconventional or lesser-known truth about mental health that you wish more people knew about?

People think resilience is about toughness—about pushing through, controlling emotions, or “not being too sensitive.” But the truth is, resilience comes from the ability to move through emotions, not suppress them. And for that, kids need connection, not correction.

I see this a lot in boys, where there’s so much pressure to be “strong” and “independent” that they learn to shut down their emotions instead of processing them. But shutting down isn’t resilience—it’s just emotional loneliness. When a child learns that their emotions are safe to feel, that they won’t be shamed for their sensitivity, they build real resilience. They develop the inner confidence that no matter what they’re feeling, they can handle it.

But when we teach boys to just toughen up and suppress their emotions, we don’t get strong, capable men—we get a generation of men who struggle to be emotionally present in their marriages and families, who become toxic, narcissistic leaders and colleagues, who believe the only way to get things done is to bulldoze their way through. They become men who, deep down, are disconnected from themselves—so they disconnect from others too.

And that’s a problem, because what the world needs is more grounded, emotionally mature men —men who can hold space for their partners and children, who can lead with empathy instead of domination, who don’t fear emotions but can navigate them with wisdom. We need to stop equating sensitivity with weakness. The men who can feel —who are attuned to their own emotions—are the ones who can truly lead, empower, and uplift others.

If we want a better world, we have to start from the ground up—especially with how we teach boys to relate to their own emotions.

Can you share an example of when leaning on community has helped in your journey as both a mental health advocate and in your personal journey?

When I first started working with kids, I thought I was just teaching robotics. But it quickly became clear that what was happening in the classroom wasn’t just about building robots—it was about how the kids were showing up.

That’s when I found the Respectful Parenting community, especially the one led by Chapter Zero. Even though I wasn’t a parent myself, it helped me understand what I was seeing in the kids I worked with. This led me down a path of deeper learning—attending workshops on trauma-informed care, somatics, and coaching. And in each of these spaces, I found a community of adults—parents, educators, and facilitators—who were doing both their own healing work and learning new ways of showing up for kids.

Their support and encouragement led me to start The Sensitive Teacher—first as a way to share my learnings, and later as a way to create deeper programs and offerings.