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Surgeon general leads a national campaign to raise awareness
LEOLA knows first-hand how difficult it can be for
African-American families to seek help in the face of mental illness. It
took years for her family to acknowledge that the erratic,
self-destructive behavior of one of her brothers was not the result of
outside influences. "My mother thought he was either voodooed or drugged," recalls. "She couldn't accept that something else might be
wrong with him."
When punishment, pleading and prayer failed to alter her brother's
increasingly bizarre and occasionally violent behavior, the family
finally sought professional help. That was when they discovered that the
troubled 13-year-old suffered from schizophrenia. Now, nearly 20 years
later, his condition is stabilized through medication. He has a job and
lives independently.
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Her family's experience convinced of the need to educate more
Black people about the effects and treatment of mental illness. An
outreach coordinator for the greater Milwaukee chapter of the National
Alliance for the Mentally Ill, is involved in the effort to
heighten awareness and eradicate the stigma of mental illness in the
Black community. Her job makes her a footsoldier in a growing national
movement designed to dislodge mental illness from Black America's closet.
That effort has exposure of late, thanks in part to the release last
year of two important reports on mental health and mental illness by U.S.
Surgeon General David. While the focus of both reports was the
mental health of the general population, each contained key passages
addressing major mental health concerns of specific interest to Black
America and other minority communities.
For example, in the first report, a comprehensive document that
identified suicide as a major public health threat, the surgeon general
toppled the myth that suicide is not an issue of great significance in
Black communities. In fact, the report noted that suicide rates for
African-Americans 10 to 19 had more than doubled from 2.1 per 100,000 in
1980 to 4.5 per 100,000 in 1995.
In a second, equally expansive report on the nation's mental health
released in December, the surgeon general's team of experts noted that 1
in 5 Americans--roughly 50 million people--suffers from some form of
mental illness, ranging from dementia to depression. And while the
incidence of mental illness in Black communities is no greater than it
is in the general population, a tremendous gap exists between the need
for mental health services and their availability in minority
communities, leaving a greater percentage of Black individuals feeling
trapped in the pain and suffering of their conditions.
The effects of untreated mental illness on the Black community are
obvious. Many, for example, believe that a large percentage of the
homeless people trolling the streets in urban communities are mentally
ill individuals who have fallen through the social service cracks. "If
you look at where the chronically ill go when they're estranged from
friends and family, you find that they go to the cities," says Gregory
John, executive director of the greater Milwaukee chapter of the
National Alliance for the Mentally Ill. "So there is a correlation
between the degree of homelessness we see in many of these communities
and the lack of mental health services."
Similarly, the rise in suicide among Black teenagers--the bulk of them
urban males--is linked not only to the rise of violence in the culture,
but also to a lack of awareness about the nature of depression and the
absence of counselors who are culturally sensitive enough to recognize
depression in young Black men.
Satcher says that what makes these phenomena so alarming is the fact
that their causes, like 80 to 90 percent of all mental disorders, are
treatable, meaning the sufferers--including the chronically ill homeless
people--can often return to productive lives and relationships with the
right course of treatment.
"Among the most important things we hope will come out of our reports,"
he says, "is that number one, we will provide parity of access for
mental illness, we will develop programs that eliminate the stigma. And
we will get people who need treatment the treatment as early as possible."
But several barriers stand in the way of efforts to address Black
America's mental health needs. First, there is the general suspicion
that Black Americans have for the field of psychiatry. It is a suspicion
rooted in the "legacy of racism" in the field of medicine in general and
in psychiatry in particular, says Dr., president and CEO of
the Community Mental Health Council in Chicago, and a clinical professor
of psychiatry at the University of Illinois School of Medicine.
That racism has taken the form of research projects--most infamously the
Tuskegee syphilis study--in which African-Americans were unwitting and
unwilling subjects of medical experiments. Compound those incidents with
the racist utterings and writings of many of psychiatry's towering
figures, including Carl Jung, and you have, says, a sense of
distrust that you can't chalk up to mere paranoia.
Furthermore, Dr. says, the fact that psychiatric treatment and
psychiatric training is based on Euro-American models exacerbates the
disconnection between mental health professionals and African-American
patients. "And so, when African-American people go for treatment, they
don't have a sense of welcoming," Dr. says.
In his clinical practice and in his research, Dr. has worked to
change the professional climate and practice of psychiatry as it relates
to African-Americans, making the field and its practitioners more
culturally aware and sensitive to the needs and treatment of Black
patients.
But cultural factors within the community can thwart even the most
sincere efforts to extend mental health services to African-American
communities. First and foremost among them is the stigma attached to
mental illness.
"We're still gathering data about this," says Dr. Steven director
of the National Institute of Mental Health, "but one of the things we
seem to find in African-American communities is that the spirit of
self-reliance--which is good--is sometimes combined with a sense of
shame about mental symptoms and a belief that you should be able to
shake off these symptoms by yourself. That kind of thinking leads to
people getting into treatment too late."
As part of her outreach program in Milwaukee, Leola visits
churches and works with ministers in a grass-roots effort to break down
the barriers, but it's tough going.
"There's still a lot of shame associated with having a family member who
is mentally ill," she says. "It's considered a weakness, not an illness.
So instead of going to a professional who can help, people turn inward
or they turn to faith to help them through."
Improving the access to mental health professionals and facilities will
help. With too few psychiatrists and psychologists serving Black
communities, delivering treatment, even to those who want it, is
difficult. "We have to close a fairly significant gap between the
institutions and leadership in mental health and the underserved
communities that need those services," says Dr. who is serving on
a task force established by the surgeon general that will issue a report
this summer on the mental health needs of minority communities. "It's a
matter of connecting the dots between these entities and creating an
infrastructure to support them. When we do that, we will have better
mental health treatment for Black America."
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