By now, everyone has heard the news from Ferguson,
Missouri. An unarmed 18 year old named
Michael Brown was shot and killed by a police officer. Michael Brown was black.
Some of the events surrounding the shooting are in
dispute. But what isn’t in dispute is
that for the past two weeks, a community has been torn apart by race – a community
that until recently was best known for its proximity to St. Louis and its designation
as a Playful
City, USA.
Picture credit: Health Affairs |
Media reports since the August 9th shooting have
focused almost entirely on one angle – race relations.
We’ve heard about unrest
in the city, the National Guard, police in riot gear, and danger in the
streets. We’ve heard about the District
Attorney’s ties to law enforcement, and concerns
that a too-white Grand Jury may be racially motivated not to indict the
police officer involved in the deadly shooting.
But the media have been strangely silent about a different
angle – this community is experiencing an ongoing trauma. And where are the mental health services it
so desperately needs?
Make no mistake about this. Race matters.
I have written in the past about people such as Anna
Brown, Miriam
Carey, and Allen
Daniel Hicks, Sr., a mother, a dental hygienist, and a coach. None survived encounters with the police
during times of crisis.
And we know they
are not the only ones.
But what these people had in common was that the final crises
they experienced were in part medical. In some respects, that makes them more sympathetic than
Michael Brown. In others, unfortunately,
it allowed media to dismiss what happened to them as aberrations brought on in
part by their medical emergencies and suspicion of mental illness (an
assumption that proved to be fatally incorrect in all three cases).
So the message frames in those stories quickly dissolved.
But when we’ve got a community at “unrest,” the story frame
lives on.
But let’s read between the lines. This isn’t just a community at unrest, this is
a community in distress.
And it is time we did something about that.
I have posted a version of this blog on Mental Health America’s web
site, which you can find here. In that blog, you’ll find several resources to
help communities in distress, ranging from local MHA affiliates to national
helplines, to tools and training aimed at helping communities recover from
tragedies.
You’ll also find a call to action to join our #B4Stage4
campaign, which launches in September, at Mental Health America. You will hear much more about this campaign
in the coming months. It is designed to
move our attention around mental health to where it belongs – on prevention,
early identification of concerns, and early intervention.
And it is designed to get public officials and the media to
recognize that managing distress comes first and prevents violence, and to demand
that they put resources into families and communities before mental illnesses
progress to “Stage 4,” when “danger to self or others” is the only standard we
have – a standard that leads too frequently to incarceration or tragedies like
these.
Finally, you’ll find mental
health screening tools and other resources you can use for yourself or with
family and friends, especially if you – like me – keep imagining what your life
would be like if your child were the victim here, or if your community was the
one falling apart.
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