For decades, a great number of psychiatrists, academics and healthcare workers have worked to destigmatize mental illness. In recent years, the public seems to have become more open to discussing the issue.
On social media, many people share their experiences of seeing a psychiatrist or attending therapy sessions. College students, especially those majoring in social sciences and the humanities, talk about how they have struggled (or are still struggling) to maintain their psychological well-being.
Universities are increasingly instituting ways to look after students with mental health problems.
At national universities, counseling centers are available on campus and regulations have been specified to accommodate students who have difficulties keeping up with course requirements.
I have been teaching at one of the top-ranking national universities in Taiwan. Over the past few weeks, two students talked with me about their mental health conditions.
One of them told me that many of her classmates have been dealing with psychological distress for quite some time, including her. The counseling center is almost always packed. She said that she wanted to do more for my class, but she just could not. She blamed herself for poor time management and apologized to me for not being able to turn in assignments on time.
As an instructor, I have to be fair with all of my students, but I knew that blaming her without understanding what she was going through would be the last thing I should do. We had several e-mail exchanges, in which she told me about her circumstances and we shared some good things from our lives. Before long, she started to turn in quality assignments and became one of the most engaged students in class.
The other student’s situation was much different. His assignments showed that he was not interested in the class material. As the semester progressed, his performance remained the same, that is, mediocre and sometimes poor. I reminded him of his grades, which appeared “dangerous.” He sent me his records of appointments at the university’s counseling center, hoping that I could accommodate his problems in accordance with the university’s regulations.
In short, the university wants instructors to let students with mental health records pass their classes, regardless of their performance. The student stopped attending class, saying that he had difficulty facing crowds. His condition concerned me. I wondered if he would need further assistance, so I asked other students in the class about how he was doing. It turned out that he seemed fine, hanging out with other friends on a day when he was supposed to attend class. Apparently, he used mental health as a pretext to avoid course requirements. Yet, due to the university’s regulations, I could hardly demand that he comply with the requirements as clearly specified in my syllabus.
Regulations are important and protocols are necessary for instructors to refer to.
However, based on my experience, mutual trust is perhaps the key for students and instructors, especially when the resources on campus are not sufficient and students have to wait for three weeks to see a therapist at a counseling center.
Instructors are only human. As an adjunct assistant professor, I work two jobs while trying to find time to continue my research. Some of my friends, also adjunct assistant professors, have to teach numerous classes at several universities to get by. A friend of mine is now a tenure-track assistant professor. In her case, the job is relatively stable, but she has to undertake many administrative tasks that tenure professors do not like doing. Meanwhile, she must try to publish as much as she can to keep her position and be promoted. Non-tenure professors like us, although younger — with “fresher livers” — than senior tenure professors are at times simply too exhausted to look after our students.
The existing structure of Taiwan’s higher education has prevented instructors from establishing meaningful and long-term relationships with their students. I was fortunate enough to have a student who was willing to open up to me, and we have worked together to maintain her mental health while accomplishing all the course requirements. As for the other student, I could only tell myself that it was his choice not to be engaged in class. The regulations and protocols of the university prevented me from doing more as an instructor, and after all, I have felt burned out quite a few times during the semester.
Friends in a similar situation told me: “Don’t bother. Let him be.”
To ensure a win-win situation for students with mental health problems and instructors, resources to maintain psychological well-being and protocols to accommodate each student’s health condition are important. Yet, without addressing the structural problems of Taiwan’s higher education system, in which non-tenure professors are overworked, the situation will not improve and would only get worse. Regrettably, for the foreseeable future, mental health problems will become even more prevalent among students and non-tenure professors alike.
Hong Bei-fu is an adjunct assistant professor teaching in Taiwan.
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