To be men and women for others, we must turn passion into concrete action

Junior Isra Hussain is a Presidential Scholar majoring in Psychology and minoring in Arabic Studies. Calling upon her experiences in Pakistan with her family, and her subsequent time at Boston College, Isra wrote the following essay as a part of the BC Talks student speaker series. 

Isra giving her BC Talk last night, November 11, 2015

I’m one of the few people who can pinpoint exactly when their life changed – when they had an epiphany, a realization, an understanding of their “calling.”

So, I guess I consider myself lucky for this.

At the same time, I don’t think I’m so lucky. The moment isn’t extraordinary, and it’s not something I’m proud of.

My life changed in a moment in 2013.  I looked my cousin in the eyes after years of not seeing him – someone who I grew up playing “Go Fish” and tag with in the mountains of Northern Pakistan – and he didn’t look back. He didn’t even attempt to make eye contact. He didn’t respond to my excited greeting.

And this is because he lives in a society that doesn’t accept individuals with any sort of disability, especially one that’s mental and not readily physically apparent.

It’s because he was kicked out of school due to his autism, and because he was not given the tools or education needed to prosper, nor was he or his family provided institutions to help him grow up normally. And consequently, my cousin, once so happy and playful, was now lost in a deep, deep state of depression.

Because everyone here, from my cousin, my relatives, to the children on the streets and the men driving rickshaws, was human, but was not given the human right of displaying feeling and asking for help.

Isra visiting her family in Pakistan in 2013

I realized in the years I played in my town’s soccer league and practiced my flute alongside my school band in preparation for homecoming, my cousin was instead essentially deprived of a joyful childhood, something I took for granted most of my life.

Sure, I struggled with the fact I was a child of immigrants, and though being stuck between cultures had its hardships, I was still given privileges I didn’t necessarily deserve, and ones my loved ones in Pakistan didn’t necessarily have.

But it wasn’t until I saw the pain and sadness in my cousin’s eyes, causing me to look at the larger picture, that I realized how fortunate I truly was.

With this growing realization and discomfort of my lucky circumstance – having parents who decided to immigrate to America before I was born – I entered college filled with anger and frustration. I wanted to do something and I didn’t know what.

I hoped classes would empower me, but I found myself instead concentrating day by day, trying to make it through the next exam. I became afraid of losing sight of the larger picture — of the gaping disparities between me and many other teens around the world, including my cousin.

And so I’ve tried to guide my path, turning my passion into concrete action, by five crucial steps.

Dancing in last year’s South Asian Student Association’s culture show at BC

Step 1. Identification: What makes you tick?

I wanted to understand what exactly it was that made me angry. And I realized I was angered that my cousin lived in a culture which did not support him and his family, and did not support individuals who may face hardships that aren’t as apparent to the human eye.

Step 2. Education: Educate yourself, ask the important questions, and do some research

I wanted to take action and really learn about the issue at hand, applied to a more local context. So, summer after freshman year I interned at Suffolk County House of Corrections and Rosie’s Place, a women’s shelter, in Boston.

In these internships I observed the same treatment of mental illnesses as to my visit to Pakistan.

At Rosie’s Place and Suffolk House, however, institutions were in place for discussing mental health for those that were poor, homeless, and imprisoned. I worked with many racially and culturally diverse individuals, and the commonality was the denial of mental fatigue, illness, or exhaustion.

There was a “model minority” stereotype. The women at Rosie’s Place would tell me if they were receiving aid, and had enough food to feed their children that week, that they didn’t deserve to feel a constant “sadness.”

In this case, the similarity between Pakistan and Boston was the inability to express the need for help — from discussing one’s mental state, one’s vulnerabilities, one’s “weakness” of any kind.

My story furthered to working on a project all of last year, identifying the stigma of mental health, and how treatment disparities are seen across the board for various factors. We hosted Unmasking Mental Health: A Night with the Arts in the fall semester, and in the spring, held a preview for our original documentary, A Boston State of Mind.

With the 2017 Presidential Scholars at the premiere of “A Boston State of Mind”

Step 3. Concrete action: Take steps to bring what you have learned off campus, in a local setting, that can be applied to the larger picture

Taking a step off of the Boston College campus, I began doing research in this very field – in the Disparities Research Unit at Harvard Medical School. I study the relationship between mental health research and policy implementation.

Some commonalities noted from last year?

The effect of culture, race, and minority status on one’s acceptance of mental health.

On the influence of overarching stigma, separating psychological disease from the medical sphere.

The two are not mutually exclusive. Instead, psychological health informs physical health. And physical health informs psychological health. And the two together can be largely affected by one’s genes and environment. Everything goes hand in hand.

During filming for “A Boston State of Mind” with Jesse Mu, a junior in the Presidential Scholars program. Jesse also gave a BC Talk.

Step 4: Connection to current events and larger issues

In terms of current hot topics, Doctors Without Borders has been running a mental health program, providing psychological assistance to Syrians seeking sanctuary in northern Iraq’s refugee camps. Uncertainty is the largest factor that is affecting the mental health of these refugees.

We hear so much about the immediate issues of concern in regard to the Syrian Refugee crisis because these are most pressing—but when do we hear about psychological trauma?

I like to think this is a very immediate issue and if not looked at now, can develop very serious repercussions for the future.

And I believe we, as students, can aid in this.

Step 5: Sustainable solutions

Remember, do what is in our scope as students, but never forget to think about sustainability. Bring all you have understood from around the world back to campus. Everything must go full circle.

You may or may not be interested in eliminating the stigma of mental health, and helping to treat those who don’t have the capacity to seek help.

Isra on World Day of Social Justice in 2014

This has been my passion, my dream, my calling – but of course it isn’t everyone’s.

Instead, I want to stress how we can relate our passions to the larger picture—how important it is for us to try to better understand the human experience.

It’s too easy to become absorbed in your classes, in living day by day, week by week.

We cannot overlook our privilege. It is our role as students to attempt to understand the greater plight of human experience. Whether that is by traveling into Boston, applying for external internships, becoming involved in research. It is time we take all that we are doing on campus and apply it to the larger picture.

Whatever you believe is your calling, apply what you are taught, what you feel, what gets you going—to creating sustainable solutions.

The process of attempting to do so is itself invaluable, and will result in a more empathetic, proactive, and educated human race.

And in case we don’t hear it enough in this Jesuit institution, it is time for us to actually become men and women for others.