We made it -- 09W gasps its final frigid breath. Classes are ending, shorts and flip-flops have been sighted all over campus and the sun stays out until 6 p.m.
It's been a long 10 weeks getting here, though. And it isn't just the bitter cold, snow and ice that make the term so miserable; some scientists believe that shortened days and limited sunlight alone can wreak havoc on our emotions. But before we flee campus for spring break therapy, leaving memories of winter far behind us, there are lessons to be learned from this winter that might help make future ones less traumatic.
As well-known as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is, an astonishing number of people continue to suffer through the winter in silence, believing they are the only ones who feel like something has been "off" all season. It wasn't until the last few weeks that I started to hear classmates say things like, "This term has been hard on me." Such statements are always acknowledged knowingly, and a conversation begins in which both students euphemistically dance around the d-word, until at last one cautiously ventures, "You know, I've just been sort of depressed." Ninety-nine percent of the time, this statement is met with a relieved and emphatic, "Me too!" followed, at last, by a frank conversation about the challenges of Winter term.
It's wonderful that we have finally found the courage to discuss how we've been feeling this winter, and in doing so, have realized that we can commiserate with our peers without being branded as crazy or whiny. Unfortunately, it's a little late. The time has passed when students most needed to talk to someone who could relate to feeling lonely, unhappy and drained. And while this eventual recognition might mean that next winter we will be open about our feelings from the beginning, somehow I doubt it.
I'm not sure whether it's Dartmouth culture, or American culture in general, that makes us so embarrassed or afraid to talk about our mental health. The problem certainly isn't that Dartmouth is lacking in resources; there are plenty of people on campus trained to talk about emotional issues and direct students to the resources that best meet their needs. The problem is getting students to seek out such resources.
In this respect, I think Dartmouth could do more. The occasional panels and information sessions about depression in general, and SAD in particular, are admirable, but changing an ingrained cultural norm takes more than a few events. Effectively combating a harmful status quo requires bringing issues like depression out into the open, and keeping them there, so that it is impossible for us to ignore them or avoid talking about them.
This campus needs a large-scale public awareness campaign about depression -- a movement that maintains a constant stream of dialogue and information between student groups and administrators and the student body. It sounds simple, but blanketing the campus with posters and sending out weekly blitzes about the frequency of depression and SAD, as well as about Dartmouth's available resources, are both solid first steps in normalizing discussions about mental health. Eating Disorder Peer Advisors and Drug and Alcohol Peer Advisors are wonderful resources for students struggling with eating disorders and substance abuse, and these groups do a great job of advertising about their issues. A similar group, targeted at depression, could also be helpful. Counselors could hold office hours in a non-threatening environment for students with minor or moderate symptoms who wanted to talk to someone, without having to make an official Dick's House appointment. All of these suggested resources would supplement those already in place.
Finally, such a depression-awareness campaign would present a corollary message: if you think someone is struggling, don't look the other way. The most important thing you can do for people dealing with depression is to let them know that they aren't alone, and that they have a safe outlet to vent their emotions. One of the things I love most about Dartmouth is the feeling of community among the student body, faculty and alumni. Along with that communal warmth, however, comes the responsibility to take care of one another.
Dartmouth isn't a campus full of depressed people, but I think that, especially in the winter, all of us have moments when we need someone to reach out to us and say, "I'm here for you." As a community, we can all work on acknowledging when we need help, as well as when we should offer it.
