Everything I know about America I learned at Community College

Chapter 4: The Not So Secret, Secret: Mental Illness

Everyone seems to have one these days. You know, the son, daughter, sibling, cousin, aunt, uncle, or parent living in a relative’s basement, unwilling or unable to emerge from her cocoon to engage society on the level the rest of us believe is normal, productive, or “sane.”

While most of us are thanking ourselves for not falling into such depths, the truth of the matter is that many of our fellow Americans, once a well-kept secret guarded by faithful family members, are actually engaging in society to the best of their abilities, a phenomenon made possible, ironically, by both the absence and availability of mental health resources.

I won’t reiterate here the lack of public funding for mental health resources, including emergency care, long-term housing, and job training. Although private organizations exist on generous donations to help those living with mental illness, their waiting lists are staggering. Family caregivers have few options for help unless, God forbid, their charges become violent. Even then, 72-hour suicide watches or innocent casualties are clearly not solutions.

Enter the community college. With Pell grants, individualized action plans, and disability resource officers, the community college accepts anyone over the age of sixteen with no questions asked. Community college faculty, told that one out of every five Americans suffers from a documented or undocumented mental illness,[1] easily understand, their classrooms confirming the research.

Before each term I receive confidential notices regarding students who have asked for disability services. These notices include accommodations for students with physical and mental disabilities, but mental health accommodations, in my experience, outnumber physical handicaps. Although I do not receive information regarding actual student diagnoses, college-provided brochures outline the symptoms of students who may be suffering from anxiety, depression, panic attacks, obsessive compulsive behavior, borderline personality, or bipolar disorder.

I have had students who talk to themselves during class; experience panic attacks in the classroom; refuse to speak when spoken to; or, spend class time drawing tiny pictures and sitting in a corner with a hoodie pulled low over their eyes. I have had belligerent and belittling students. I have seen veterans cry. I have had students who do not bathe, wear the same thing for weeks on end, and sit in the front row right under my nose. I have had students ask me for help.

Not all of these behaviors signify a mental illness. More common are students who blurt out their thoughts and opinions throughout the class period even when interrupting a lecture or another student, their body language and word choices clearly demonstrating a lack of social awareness. If I had a class of 200 students, I might not even notice these disruptions. In a class of twenty, such behaviors are obvious to all. Every classroom in which I teach is equipped with a landline phone stamped with the number of campus police.

Herein lies the problem and promise of the community college system.

Inexpensive tuition, open enrollment, small class sizes, and an emphasis on student learning mean community college faculty have the amazing privilege to know these students and help them move forward in life. Our students are courageous. They face campus each day and are attempting to better their lives, interact with others, and make a difference in the world. It is an honor to teach them.

Yet these students can sometimes bring fear and disruption into the classroom. Although infrequent, police reports, behavioral consultations, and therapist referrals are also part of my job. To say that every term provides a different learning experience is a gross understatement.

Most Americans will never come into daily contact with the social situations community college instructors face, but it is my firm belief that they should if they truly want to understand America.

I am not a trained counselor nor a licensed therapist, yet my job often borders the fringe of those occupations. I can help or hurt the students in my charge to the level that I understand how best to teach them and integrate them into the larger group. Usually, I simply listen to them because they are bright (often bordering on genius), self-aware (to the point they have sought accommodating help), and brave (facing peers and authority daily).

But, is it really okay to expect our nation’s educators to be the front line for mental health services in America? Political debates after the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting suggested, unfortunately, that voters are fine with the status quo.

Community college students and faculty know that mental illness in America is real and exacting. I am confident public school teachers and pupils understand, as well. Numerous scientific studies have demonstrated that mental illness is on the rise in the United States.[2]

It is well beyond time for the rest of America to catch up.

[1] “Mental Health by the Numbers,” National Alliance on Mental Illness, https://www.nami.org/Learn-More/Mental-Health-By-the-Numbers (last accessed: July 1, 2018).

[2] Twenge, Jean M. “Mental Health Issues On the Rise? Why it’s important stories about generational differences look at the research,” Psychology Today (posted October 12, 2015), https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/our-changing-culture/201510/are-mental-health-issues-the-rise (last accessed, July 1, 2018).