It's about time. For some, it's uncomfortable, sure. But if filling out a survey is what it takes to help students help themselves, I would hope that students see that a little inconvenience upfront can provide the means for breaking down the barrier between college students and mental illness.
If you have dealt with depression, anxiety or any mental illness before, you have been through the bureaucracy of the medical world, the doctors, the vulnerability, the emotional turbulence and the ultimate catharsis of spilling your soul to a stranger. If you have not, then admittedly the process seems strange. Who is Health Service to ask you how you have been feeling the past two weeks? That is your business and your business only — understood.
I embarked upon the long road of "too-much-work/too-little-time/life-comes-at-you-fast/I'm-not-sleeping/help-me-someone" my freshman year. At that time, I had much of what I considered my own business and very little of what I considered things that strangers would have permission to know or understand.
Fast forward two years: I still have much that I consider my own business. After some soul searching — and talking with a few strangers — I've decided that is okay. What's changed is that I understand that I am not an island. Apologies Mr. Simon and Mr. Garfunkel: Islands never cry, but they also don't sleep, don't function, don't live up to half the potential that a connected, supported human being can. But an island with a bridge or two, maybe a cell phone connection, is a much more holistically healthy island than one marooned in the South Pacific.
Scary? Yes. I remember only too fondly the popping of my proverbial pride bubble when I realized I might be one of those crazies who has to see a shrink. Words like "therapist," "mental illness" and "medication" are extremely stigmatized in American society and they scared me too. They do not have to be scary (wild idea, I know). But we are not there yet. We may not be for a while. That is not what this is about.
The Health Service surveys are a good idea. They use current research that says there is some correlation between physical and mental health and apply it in the most practical manner. Tufts put two and two together to come up with an ingeniously elegant solution to an overwhelmingly complex problem.
How do we catch a college student in emotional and/or mental distress when the last thing the college student wants to do is betray any inkling that he is not the productive, intelligent, independent figure that America breeds and expects him to be? Perhaps by having him fill out a survey about something he can easily ignore (his mental health) when he seeks help for something he cannot easily ignore (an annoying physical illness).
Wave a red flag in front of the student's face saying, "Hey you! You know how you've been tired all the time? You know that terrible, cloudy feeling you have, how you don't want to wake up in the morning, how you don't feel interested in anything you used to, how you don't feel like yourself, how you don't like yourself?" That can change; we can help you fix that. This is a real problem, not a figment of your imagination and not something that people who are only too weak to care for themselves seek help for. Smart humans talk to others about their problems.
It would be one whale of a red flag, but you get the point. Believe it or not, Health Service, Tufts University, Larry Bacow — whichever lights your fire — cares about you. This survey is not an invasion of privacy. It is extending a helping hand. It is possible you are dangling off the edge of a cliff, hanging on with one hand while simultaneously texting with your toes and writing a term paper with a pen in your teeth. Oh and you have a blindfold on. (Read: You do not know who you can ask for help.) It might take something that feels slightly invasive at first — a hand reaching out for your flailing fingers as they scramble for a handhold (read: an innocuous survey) — to ultimately set you back on two feet again.
Grievances against the new implementation are understandable. You go in to get a tire changed; you do not want a new engine and Turbo Thrusters added. But this is not an overhaul; it is a few optional questions. Cannot be bothered to fill it out? Don't. If you are so desperate for a doctor that an innocent piece of paper is too greatly impeding your dire call for medical attention, call 911. Don't show up to the Health Service office. This is not a perfect solution, but it is a step in the right direction and I applaud it.
After all, Health Service is not asking for your entire emotional history. At this point, it's not even asking if you need help. That is a judgment, and believe it or not, the staff is trying not to judge you. The ball is in your court and the door is open. If you want to talk, there is someone out there that wants to listen.
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Katie Vogel is a junior majoring in history.
