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Mental Health
4 min read

We need to weep over the wreckage of mental illness

While its now OK to talk about mental illnesses, we need to weep over the harm caused and how we’ve tried to treat them, writes Rachael Newham.

Rachael is an author and theology of mental health specialist. 

 

 

A grey and white wall graffited with a tag a image of a person crumpled and crying.

Today, February 1st, is Time to Talk Day. It's part of a long-running campaign encouraging people to have open and honest conversations about mental health. It's aim is to break down the barriers of stigma and misunderstanding. It has been a staggering success - what was a fringe issue talked by those only affected by mental illness a decade ago is now part of common parlance. Mental health training is widely available, and the charity’s work has been seen to have a significant positive impact on the mental health conversation 

However, as our familiarity with the language of mental health has grown so too has the way we use it. People might talk about having PTSD after a bad date, or their friend being ‘so OCD’ about the way they organise. Unwittingly, as psychotherapist and author Julia Samuels points out, “[we have] awareness without real understanding.” 

However, awareness without understanding means we actually don’t reach those most impacted by mental illness. We know about mental health in the way we know about our physical health - but we are no more aware about the serious, sometimes lifelong mental illnesses which rob people of hope, joy and vitality - sometimes leaving them with lifelong disability.  

If you ask most people about mental illness they may tell you about depression and anxiety; the two most common mental illnesses which have become the acceptable face of mental illness. It’s reflected in the way funding is channeled to interventions that get people with mental illnesses back to work, or to NHS ‘Talking Therapies’ which offers short term psychological therapies (both of which are important initiatives) but have cut the number of inpatient beds from over 50,000 in 2001 to under 25,000 in 2022[3] which means those at the more severe end of the spectrum of mental health to mental illness are left to travel 300 miles for the care they need. 

We have to survey the wreckage that severe and enduring mental illness causes, before we can begin to rebuild a society that is kinder - without prejudice or stigma. 

Whilst it’s right that we have raised awareness about the most common conditions, we can’t ignore the illnesses which are termed ‘severe and enduring mental illnesses’ which include those such as bipolar disorder, major depression, schizophrenia and complex post-traumatic stress disorder.  

For people living with these conditions, the general mental health advice that we give; for example getting enough sleep and time outdoors may not be enough to keep the symptoms at bay. Just as general physical health advice like getting your five a day will not cure or prevent all severe physical illnesses. Medication, hospitalisation, and at times even restrictions of freedom like being detained under the mental health act might be necessary to save lives.  

These are stories that we need to hear. The debilitating side effects of life saving medications that can raise blood pressure, cause speech impediments. The injustices to confront (such as the fact that black people are five times more likely to be detained under the mental health act than their white counterparts) and the adjustments to life that those with disabilities are required to make to their lives.  

We have to survey the wreckage that severe and enduring mental illness causes, before we can begin to rebuild a society that is kinder - without prejudice or stigma. We have to listen to the perhaps devastating, perhaps uncomfortable stories of those who live with severe and enduring mental illness. The mental health npatient units miles from home, the lack of freedom, the searing - unending grief.  

Weep for the lives lost, the crumbling systems, the harm caused both by mental illness and the way we’ve tried to treat them. 

By hearing these stories, we are accepting them as a part of reality. For those of us in churches it might be that the healing didn’t come in the way we expected, it might be also be all of us accepting that the systems designed to care for those with mental illness have in fact, caused more harm. It’s seeing the injustices and understanding that we, our systems and professionals need to change our attitudes.  

Understanding and acceptance of the injustice are the way forward- that’s the only way change can come.  

It might look like standing in the rubble, it might feel too huge and all but hopeless.  

And yet in scripture and in life that is so often the only way we can begin to rebuild. 

In the book of Nehemiah, one of the Old Testament prophets who had lived in exile far away from home for his whole life, we see that upon hearing about the state of the walls of Jerusalem, before he did any of the things we expect heroes and innovators to do- he wept. In fact, it’s estimated that for four months he wept over the state of the place that had once been the envy of the ancient world.  

Perhaps we too need hear the stories and then weep. 

Weep for the lives lost, the crumbling systems, the harm caused both by mental illness and the way we’ve tried to treat them and then slowly, we can begin the work of rebuilding.  

It isn’t a work that can be done alone by a single agency much less a single person - it requires society to hear stories of the more than just ‘palatable’ mental illnesses with neat and tidy endings to the messy and sometimes traumatic stories that are there if we just care to listen to them. It might be reflected in the petitions we sign, the way we vote, the stories we choose to read. 

So ,this Time to Talk Day - I’m saying let’s continue the amazing work of talking about mental health - we need to keep talking about anxiety and depression. But let us also make conversations wider, so that they encompass the whole continuum of mental health and illness. 

 We’ve seen the difference Time to Talk can make - now it’s time to talk about severe and enduring mental illnesses, too. 

  

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Community
Education
4 min read

There’s a blindingly obvious way to teach religious tolerance

George Pitcher disagrees with the media’s approval of a school ban on religious observance.

George is a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics and an Anglican priest.

school pupils sit at desk, some with a hand raised.
Michaela School pupils in class.

The decision by “Britain’s strictest school”, the Michaela Community School in north-west London, to ban religious observance after a Muslim majority among the children started prayer rituals, which led to some bullying and violence (and indeed a lawsuit), has met with almost universal media approval across the political spectrum. 

Nick Timothy, a columnist on the Daily Telegraph and a former spin-doctor for Theresa May as prime minister, predictably used it as a dread warning against an Islamic threat under the headline: “Multiculturism is becoming a Trojan horse for Islamist domination.” 

In what some might term as the sensible middle-ground of the Sunday Times, Camilla Long weighed in with an attack on Muslim cultural observance and then posed the extraordinarily illiberal question: “Wouldn’t it be better if we banished faith in schools altogether?” On the left, Polly Toynbee in the Guardian agreed, concluding that it’s “time to abolish religious schools.” 

This seems to be the kind of old-school management that said that if you can’t play together nicely, there will be no playtime for anyone. 

There’s something cultic about the free school Michaela and its headteacher, Katharine Birbalsingh. The right-wing love it for its Gradgrind strict disciplines and consequently high academic results. The left are said to hate it for much the same reasons. And almost universally Ms Birbalsingh is treated as an educational demi-god. 

Allow me to demur. The first thing I want to say is something I think is blindingly obvious: You don’t teach children religious tolerance by being religiously intolerant. I don’t usually like to have to coin a truism, but there we are.  

The desire to ban is an unfortunate tendency in Birbalsingh. I understand why she might want to ban knives or drugs or porn in her school, as would all schools, but religious observance? This seems to be the kind of old-school management that said that if you can’t play together nicely, there will be no playtime for anyone.  

Transposed into the religious context, that becomes: “If you can’t pray together nicely, there will be no prayers.” This grows into an extreme form of secularism, which pretends that there is no religion in the world, when we know that in fact it’s full of religious people. That doesn’t seem to be a good education for our young, if good education is meant to prepare them for the world, which I posit that it does. 

I’m with our late Queen Elizabeth on this and, in particular, the profound generosity of her Christian faith. 

The next thing I want to say is that it’s incumbent on a decent school to teach that the three Abramic faiths – in order of their emergence, Judaism, Christianity and Islam – are in their authentic forms religions of peace.  

Anyone who claims that Islam’s holy book, the Koran, is intrinsically violent clearly hasn’t read the  the Bible or the Torah. But, in all three instances, human violence and oppression are met with the redemption of an all-loving God.  

It follows that the Michaela can and should ban bullying and intimidation, but not the authentic cultural practices of these religions. It might, naturally, simply be easier to ban the lot and be done with it, but nobody has said that running a school is meant to be easy. 

In my own experience as a parish priest, visiting a Church of England primary school (the sort that Toynbee, as a good liberal, would ban) for assemblies, is that tolerance and diversity are best taught naturally by practice.  

At prayer time, I was gently reminded by the headteacher that I shouldn’t invite the children to pray with words such as “hands together” as that’s not how all families pray (if they pray at all). Better to say: “Let’s get ready to pray, however we do that.” Tolerance in action. 

Finally, off the back of talking about a Christian school in a nominally Christian state, I’d like to conclude with how a Christian school (clearly not Birbalsingh’s) should behave. Clearly, evangelising in a multicultural institution is inappropriate. What we should aspire to is pluralism. 

I’m with our late Queen Elizabeth on this and, in particular, the profound generosity of her Christian faith. She delivered a speech at Lambeth Palace to mark her Diamond Jubilee in 2012. She started by saying: “The concept of our established Church is occasionally misunderstood and, I believe, commonly under-appreciated. Its role is not to defend Anglicanism to the exclusion of other religions. Instead, the Church has a duty to protect the free practice of all faiths in this country.” 

She went on to say: “Gently and assuredly, the Church of England has created an environment for other faith communities and indeed people of no faith to live freely.” It seems to me that this should be an aspiration that is taught in our schools. Not just the Christian ones, but all of them.  

It invites children of other faiths and of no faith to respond accordingly. It seems to be at the heart of an education that teaches how the world actually is, rather than how we fantasise it to be.   

And it provides a considerably more valuable lesson for children than the instinct of Ms Birbalsingh and her media cheerleaders to ban things.