Here at The Jordan Elizabeth Harris Foundation, we aren’t really interested in coronating villains, and the goal of this post is not to pile on the think pieces that have already responded to the structures and consequences of those structures evidenced in the reporting from The Washington Post. Our goal is really to talk through intentionality and better understanding the consequences that our decisions have in the real world – even when that is tough to talk about.
I come from an education background, and I’ve been present in rooms where these types of discussions occur. In many cases, the motivations of the people having these discussions are truly pure. The people in charge need to think about the health of the people entrusted to their care, and they need to think about where the institutional limits are – we simply cannot be everything for everybody. The idea of having a student withdraw – on its surface – can make a lot of sense. After all, when someone is going through a mental health crisis, the last thing they need to be thinking about is classes and school and assignments.
We’ve also come to expect a lot from our institutions, and there is an expectation that schools need to do more than educate. Maybe better stated, that education is broader than passing a certain test at a certain time. This mentality certainly doesn’t stop with schools; over and over again, we expect more from the institutions we associate with, often times in ways that are far beyond their initial scope of foundation. Institutions could be forgiven for pushing back on the idea that they need to be all things to all people.
Despite that, it is also important to note that understanding why these policies, practices and procedures came to be does not abdicate our requirement to do better in the face of a crisis. As I told our staff on countless occasions: just because it isn’t our job, doesn’t mean it isn’t our responsibility.
What that means practically is beginning to redesign our systems, policies and procedures to better support people who are facing crises. This would include removing the onus from the person in crisis to self-report, ensuring that there are no penalties related to asking for help, either intentionally or unintentionally, and eliminating incentives that may accidently encourage people to do the wrong thing.
To that final point, we see many examples in the community of incentives and awards that appear innocuous or even admirable that simply don’t make a lot of sense when approached with intentionality. One such scenario is Perfect Attendance Awards for schools. On the surface, this looks like a great idea (everyone agrees that students need to be in class if they can be). But what it actually incentivizes is a student coming to school sick or when they aren’t at their best, possibly infecting other people or disrupting the learning of others. The best of intentions can sometimes lead to the exact behaviors that we are trying to avoid, and consequences that are not helpful for our organizations.
With that in mind, we do have a few practical questions and pieces of advice that we think everyone within a position of authority should reflect on when thinking about how their institution and worldview interacts with mental health.
A quick guide to assessing your polices:
1. How many of your policies, practices and procedures require the person in crisis to self-identify?
2. How easy is it to access care after self-identification?
3. Is the identification process intentionally or unintentionally punitive?
4. How much support are you willing to give to those that work for and with you?
As a final note, we think that the best way to understand the incentives in your community is to ask the people who are affected by them. As an employer, ask your employees if they would report a mental health concern to you. Learn why or why not, and make your decisions based on that information. Suicide is preventable, but it takes all of us to do so. And if you need help, The Foundation is here to serve with training, education and support.
