Blurring the Lines of Mental Health

It has definitely been a different year teaching during a “pandemic.”  Our students were so glad to be back in the classroom this fall.  Discipline problems were at an all-time low.  However, students’ personal challenges seemed to surface more this year. 

Although I cannot share specifics on what surfaces in my classroom among my students, I’m a teacher who has a front row seat to their mental health issues.  I am extremely sensitive to these issues because I am a daughter of a mother who has a mental illness.  As a young child, I quickly learned of the stigma that came with her illness.  After some discussions and occurrences with my students this year, the stigma sadly still remains just as strongly as it did during my adolescent years. 

The stigma of mental health issues is harmful because it silences us.  Someone who struggles with mental issues rarely speaks out about them for fear of being ostracized, treated differently, or such information being used against them.  This sharing of information places one under a microscope where certain behaviors done by them might be seen as odd or “crazy,” yet for anyone else doing the very same thing would be seen as quite normal. 

Many families (including mine) that have been affected by mental illness in one way or another have learned through their familial generations that it’s the “family secret” everyone knows yet no one talks about it. We set ourselves apart from that “one” in the family, creating an “us” and “them” mentality when we all battle mental issues.    

An illness of the mind also can be keeping a record of wrongs, overthinking, forming habits, gossiping, gaslighting, inciting factions, needing control, etc. Because of our sin nature, we are all susceptible to these mental traps.  As unhealthy mental patterns are nurtured rather than squashed, they can grow to be quite powerful, holding dominion and mastery over us.  The effects of such mental entrapments are no less destructive to the quality of our life than individuals who have a “medical diagnosis”. 

Like mental illness, addictions can be viewed quite the same.  Although it is easier to explain away the ill behaviors of some because they are addicted to drugs or alcohol, if not for the grace of God, you or I too could be the drunkard or drug addict.  Substance abuse is a temporary escape from one’s mind where the underlying issues may be the mental entanglements of unforgettable shame, regret, and unhealed wounds.  Anyone of us can be caught in a net of condemnation where we replay what feels like an unrecoverable mistake on our part and, with that, “what might actual be” if only the mistake had never happened in the first place.       

Mental health, simply put, is measured by our cope-ability to life’s circumstances.  Because life comes with many tribulations, we constantly are working toward or maintaining balance.  At different junctures in our life, we are either surviving or thriving. Though not so much with ourselves, we undervalue the God-given trait of resilience in others.  We are more prone to judgmental attitudes about one’s former struggle than readily celebrating the victory of one who recovered and overcame.  This is where we fail one another, causing a breakdown in humanity.  

Admittedly, I initially came back to the classroom this fall mostly concerned about student learning gaps.  Certain events realigned my thinking and redirected me back to my purpose— to be present with my students, in tune to the deeper needs in their life, especially at a time in our world where “normal” vaporized as an illusion. 

Even though the 2020-2021 school year was unpredictable from day to day, I am thankful for the classroom setting.  It kept us connected at a time when distance was encouraged.  In our vulnerable state, the classroom served as a place to have honest conversations; our talks diminished some of the social barriers we’ve all hidden behind.  My students realized that as those barriers were broken down, the loneliness and isolation that comes with mental health became manageable and came with benefits: their grades improved; compassion and care for others increased; and the teacher-student relationship was less of a divide, for they witnessed that we are all the same— in need of each other.  With this group, we became friends, and instead of viewing each other as individuals, we became unified. 

Photo by Shane Rounce on Unsplash