
Note: The views expressed in the Opinion pages are those of the writers. They are not necessarily representative of the opinions and values of
The
Spectator
Editorial Board.
Anyone who is familiar with me knows that my preferred topic of discussion is mental health. Frankly, it’s my wheelhouse. As such, I try to avoid discussing it in my articles because I do not want to make it seem like I am beating a dead horse, but with the conclusion of the fall semester upon us, I feel it imperative to share my thoughts on the prevalent mental health issue on this campus.
I have been encouraged by what I have seen since writing my first op-ed of the year on the stigma surrounding mental health. This being said, there is a large segment of our community that still seems to be afraid of starting a conversation about mental illness or discussing their general mental wellness. Men of Hamilton College, I am talking to you.
Men on this campus do not openly discuss their mental health or engage in dialogue across an open setting. In the last three weeks, I have attended general board meetings for Minds for Change, two Mental Health Task Force meetings, and Mind for Change’s annual “Speak Out” event. Minds for Change has no active men in the club other than myself; at our “Speak Out” event there were only two other male speakers. The Mental Health Task Force, at least at this time, has only two men on it who are not required by Student Assembly (SA) to be there. Two additional men have cycled through coming to the meetings and recording the processes on behalf of SA. I have also taken part in two self-care workshops and was the only male there who was not involved with the workshop as a requirement for a course.
The Healthy Minds survey categorizes and assesses the mental health of students and clearly reports the data in a digestible way. In 2015, students at the College took this survey, and the results were striking. In the Hamilton community, 28 percent of students indicated markers for any form of depression, 19 percent for any anxiety, and 29 percent of students reported non-suicidal self-injury.
It most certainly was not all women who took this survey; 46 percent of the respondents were male. I realize that this data is old, but I would wager that while those numbers are reflective of our current campus, with today’s rates possibly being even higher. As part of an ongoing effort to affect change on campus, I am attempting to bring this survey back to campus so we can collect accurate data today.
Operating with the assumption that this survey data is similar to our present-day situation, we have to ask ourselves why it is that more men are not involved in contributing to the discussion about how we treat mental health. The classic answer would be that men feel unable to talk about their feelings or emotions because they fear it would detract from their masculinity or somehow speak to an integral weakness about their character. As ridiculous as this notion is, it seems that once again, for the umpteenth time, it must be debunked.
Being a human being means that you are going to feel sad. You are going to feel anxious. You will be in situations where you cannot handle it on your own and it is imperative that you talk to a teammate, friend, or other resource when you need support. There is no shame in admitting that you need help. When you bottle up your emotions without an outlet and feel unable to express your doubts or worries, you are creating a situation where the problem at hand can snowball into a larger and more permanent issue.
This does not mean that you have to stand up in the locker room after practice and announce, “I’m feeling depressed today!” It does mean that you should challenge yourself to seek the support that you need. I bring up the locker room because it seems that male athletes are especially forced into these roles of emotional rigidity. In high school, I played football, lacrosse, and soccer; none of my teammates ever expressed concerns about their mental well-being, even though in some cases it was apparent those issues existed.
Break the mold. Be brave enough to confide in a friend, a teammate, a coach, or anyone. It will take the combined effort of a myriad of uncomfortable and difficult conversations to change the stigma around mental illness in men on this campus, but it is imperative that we do.
I know it is challenging. I feel much more comfortable talking to my female friends about my mental health than my close guy friends, even though I have known them for longer. I am not going to pretend that it is an easy task, but practicing emotional vulnerability is an incredibly important step in protecting your emotional and mental well-being. Identifying the resources that are available to us and actually utilizing them is the only way to affect positive and actual change.
I want to see more men involved in Minds for Change and on the Mental Health Task Force. I want guys in Pub to feel comfortable speaking their mind and not having to worry that someone is going to overhear them and think they’re “soft.” You will never be surrounded by better people than during your time at Hamilton — this is the best place to learn and the practice the skills that will sustain you for the rest of your life.
I have hope in you, faithful reader of
The Spectator
, and rely on you. In these last several days of the semester, let us come together as a community to support and love each other. Take the extra time to check up on your friends and let them know you are there for them. A random, but genuine, display of attention or affection can make all the difference to someone who is struggling silently.
To those of you struggling in silence who feel unable to be heard, you are loved and you are important. Have faith that it — whatever it is — will be better someday. Lean on your friends
