By Lori Spadorcia, Vice President, Communications and Partnerships at CAMH
When the news came across the twitterverse, I was in an Executive Leadership Team meeting. It seemed unreal for Canada but soon after the emails started to file in one by one – subject line: “I’m ok, in lockdown but safe”. Several of my former colleagues and friends were keeping in touch – no doubt also hoping to receive information from the outside to understand the situation around them. I worked on Parliament Hill for a decade – it was an absolute privilege and it still feels like a home to me. In fact, I remember being in those exact hallways during another horrific event – 9/11.
Ironically, I was to attend an event that afternoon with the Prime Minister and Malala Yousafzai on her first visit to Canada – Malala herself a symbol of the global fight against terrorism.
The video continued to replay the gunman running down the “Hall of Honour” – a hallway I’ve walked a million times over. And, just down the street, the War Memorial, home of the tomb of the Unknown Soldier – instantly turned into a place of a present-day fallen soldier.
That evening a group of us got together to watch the news unfold. It seemed safer in numbers. It didn’t take long for views to surface and conclusions to be drawn. Being in the mental health world, I was hoping aloud that this was not another story about someone with mental illness. Those of the Muslim faith were hoping it was not another act of terrorism in the name of Islam. It was a stark lesson in how easily we discriminate, marginalize and generalize populations.
A rather uncomfortable discussion ensued as people struggled for an explanation. “Surely someone of sound mind couldn’t do something so heinous”, “clearly he didn’t get the help he needed for his addictions and this was a desperate act”, “is it possible for humans to just be bad without being mentally ill?”
It’s normal to want definitive answers when terrible things happen. But chances are we will never really know what happened. Still, time and again, those of us who work in mental health must explain the reality of mental illnesses. We’ve got a long way to go in eliminating prejudice and discrimination and it’s at times like these that I feel overwhelmed with how much work is still left to do.
We know that language matters and the media play an important role in educating the public and shaping attitudes and opinion. This horrific act of violence saw the resurgence of sensationalism. The impact of this type of sensationalism is detrimental for a number of reasons, not the least of which is how it impacts those living with mental illness. Those with lived experience often say they feel unsafe themselves when these stories are profiled.
These are hard conversations. The issues are complicated. But if we don’t try to break through we will never eliminate discrimination and improve access to care. Andre Picard, having been involved in the development of the guidelines for reporting on mental health by the Canadian Journalism Forum on Violence and Trauma, published one of the most thoughtful pieces written that week. He was one of very few.
On that fateful day, my worlds collided – I felt my heart tug between my former workplace and my current workplace. Having had the chance to visit the War Memorial and former colleagues since then, I see that life in Ottawa is as it should be – its spirit and pride strong as ever.
I also feel a renewed resolve for our important work at CAMH to Drive Social Change. We carry it forward with larger acts such as awareness campaigns and in the media and equally important, in small acts such as conversations with friends and colleagues where we counter prejudice and discrimination with knowledge and understanding.