In the middle of the pandemic, we started a new practice in the nonprofit school that I run. Every third Wednesday of the month is Wellness Wednesday at Mano Amiga. Classes and work are called off for the day so that everyone could use that time to nurture their mental well-being. And even if some of us still choose to work, sending emails to our colleagues is discouraged as respect for those who are on a break.
One of the most important insights I got was from feedback shared by a teacher. She said that it felt incredibly freeing to be mandated not to work. Since we are in an industry that compels us to give so much of ourselves — whether to the students and families we serve, or the donors and partners who fund our initiatives — that “permission” to rest was something many of my team members were subconsciously looking for. Even though we are already well-immersed in conversations about the importance of mental health, we still have the proclivity to minimize mental health concerns and see self-care as unimportant.
A recently published Harvard study found that stigma, next to high cost of services, is the second top reason hindering Filipinos from seeking care and treatment. According to the Harvard Humanitarian Initiative Resilient Communities, this includes feeling ashamed (35.9 percent), fear of being perceived as “crazy” (31 percent) or weak (30.3 percent), worrying about the family’s reaction (22.4 percent), as well as possible criticism from other people (22.1 percent).
Much of the stigma that Filipinos have surrounding mental health is based on how we have been socialized to dutifully bear our challenges in silence. We belong to a collectivist society in which the needs of families are prioritized over the needs of individuals, and community resilience is often glorified as part of our national identity. This is further reinforced by the fact that when one’s primary concern is to survive the day-to-day, worrying about one’s mental well-being is a luxury in itself; what more to seek treatment. A young mother from our community once shared, “Walang postpartum depression sa mga mahihirap kasi magugutom pamilya mo (There’s no such thing as postpartum depression among the poor because your family will go hungry).”
The Harvard study pushed for greater access to telehealth services to reach communities in need. I believe, however, that another swift and resource-efficient response is to strengthen schools as the first line of defense when it comes to mental health care.
Children spend a significant portion of their day in school, and teachers are uniquely positioned to observe student behavior and detect early signs of mental health concerns. They also have a more holistic understanding of a child’s context and circumstances. If trained properly in evidence-based mental health interventions, teachers can make a sound judgment in identifying and referring children who require closer attention or more critical care. More importantly, young people will often look for help from someone they can trust. Even without a formal program, teachers are already one of the first people a child turns to when they find themselves in a crisis.
Educational institutions should be an avenue for various preventive and early intervention measures. Public schools function as civic spaces where the community naturally convenes, making them a good setting for programs focused on raising awareness and breaking stigma among low-income families. And by building the capacity of schools to deliver mental health services, students and families alike can immediately access support or guidance for referral services, without worrying about stigma and additional costs.
Resources will always be a major concern, but creative solutions emerge when there’s an authentic commitment and strong will to play a part in addressing the problem. In my succeeding column, I will be sharing some interventions that take limited financial and manpower resources into account.
That said, an initiative, no matter how innovative, will not succeed if school leaders do not support the direction of making mental hygiene a prime concern. Oftentimes, school-based programs lose steam after a few months of implementation because they were deprioritized by management. On the other hand, faculty and staff who see that mental well-being is integrated into training, policies, and programs, will also adopt a more proactive mindset in shepherding the mental health needs of their students.
Mano Amiga’s Wellness Wednesday not only helped in boosting productivity and morale among our team, but it also inspired more programs that support the social, emotional, and behavioral needs of our students. The true purpose of education has always been to help children realize their full potential. Mental health challenges, if left unaddressed, preclude them from doing so. It’s time we capacitate our schools and educators to effectively serve the mental health needs of the children under our care.