A Future for Mental Health
“James Perry, fondly known as Jamie, was the best eight-year-old that any parent could wish for. He was the sweetest little boy that loved taking care of others despite his young age. He’d hold his grandmother’s hand when she’d go down the stairs, he’d help his mum feed his baby sister, and he’d adorably carry little buckets of water to his dad whenever he had to wash their family car. Everyone that met Jamie agreed that they were truly blessed and lucky to have met the little boy. He was the epitome of positivity, and everyone hoped that it would be so for the rest of his life.
However, noticing that Jamie’s drawings started to take on more dark and sinister themes, Mrs Perry questioned him but got no reply. His pictures showed a clear transition from bright colours to blacks and dark blues. One day, he approached his sister who was sitting on the floor doodling and tried to shove her on the floor and stab her with a pencil, but fortunately their mother having being around, the baby was not harmed. Nobody predicted the onset of violence in Jamie’s behaviour, and it came as a heart-sinking blow to everyone. Jamie started drawing very disturbing pictures that often featured people dying and massacres, which would prove to be true if Jamie was not saved from whatever that had ensnared his loving and caring self in darkness.
Jamie returned to his usual self later, with no recollection of trying to hurt his sister. It was a very peculiar incident to everyone that knew Jamie, and concluded that the boy did not do it intentionally. Over time, people started to forget what had happened and moved on. However, at age ten, Jamie went on to attack a boy his age at school, and Jamie’s parents knew that whatever that happened was not over. Jamie started engaging in racist activities that caught everyone by surprise and shock, and he constantly resorted to calling children of colour hurtful names. Day-by-day, Jamie’s condition worsened, making him more and more violent every second. This was just the beginning.
Then started the race against time. Jamie’s parents travelled all around the country speaking to doctors and specialists who said that it was merely a bout of ADHD but Mrs Perry, unsatisfied by the diagnosis, did not stop at that. She insisted that it was something more. Something more dangerous than they had ever imagined. Medication was given, but all failed. Mrs Perry was forced to keep Jamie at home, and even had to unwillingly deprive him of all social contact because he proved to be an unpredictable threat to everyone. ‘I felt that there was something very wrong with my little boy. There was something much worse than ADHD at hand. I just knew it,’ she said one day, when asked why she decided to pursue doctors even after Jamie was diagnosed.
The Perrys finally caught a break when they met psychiatrist Adam Weaver. Dr. Weaver started scanning Jamie’s brain to discover a tumour lodged in his cerebral cortex. Jamie’s family were relieved to know the reason behind his behavioural changes, but this finding brought about dire circumstances; it meant brain surgery for Jamie.
Jamie came out of surgery like a hero, and returned to his usual composure to everyone’s delight. After being monitored closely by Dr. Weaver, he finally gave Jamie the green light to go back to school. Jamie was promptly forgiven for his faults by his peers and grew up to be loved by everyone, and was able to start living like a normal person. Fuelled by shock and intrigue on hearing about his violence, he took several psychiatry courses, pursued psychiatry in university and started this institute — the Institute for Brain and Mental Health, where we have gathered today. Building on the research done on brain scans and how adversity, for example physical abuse, reduces the brain’s size by 10%, he founded this non-profit organisation and saw its success— many donors from around the world contribute to maintaining it financially, and he effectively launched a program for adults where it was mandatory for them to have annual risk-free scans that are also free, ensuring mentally apt grown-ups. It is my privilege to welcome Jamie, now Dr. Perry to open the Children’s Mental Health Section,” I concluded, bursting into applause with the rest of the crowd to see Dr. Perry stand up from his seat, beaming.
When the opening ceremony was over, the crowd started thinning and I myself started making my way back home. Dr. Perry stayed behind to talk to his patients in the Adult’s Mental Health Section like he always compassionately did. He was a winner in many ways.
I walked down the road feeling the peacefulness of the evening wash over me as the setting sun coloured the sky a creamy orange. My pleasant solitude was shattered when I heard a young voice yelling, “…money you jerk!” The voices were coming from an alley nearby which I immediately turned into to see a small dark-skinned boy being towered over by a fair-skinned boy. They looked at me. The little boy’s features relaxed while the other’s stiffened, his face growing increasingly paler. They knew I was from the Institute for Brain and Mental Health, and that our policies took a firm stand against racism and bullying. I knew the older boy would feel threatened, almost as if he were at gun-point now. I looked at the little boy and said in a soft tone, “Go home now child.” I shot a curt “Come with me,” at the bully. The little boy ran away and the other slowly came up to me.
I walked on without saying another word, the boy trailing forlornly beside me. I was an official of the Institute for Brain and Mental Health and we had similar powers to that of the police. I wasn’t surprised by the two boys’ reactions. Our rules were strict enough to land a racist in jail, but lenient enough to forgive juvenile crimes. I was not planning on reporting this boy; a small scare would be more than enough. I walked into a small coffeehouse and sat the boy down opposite me by motioning toward the chair in front of me. He sat down silently, his face now white like paper. “Do you know where I work?” I asked. He nodded, avoiding eye-contact. “Do you know what’s going to happen to you?” I pressed on. His head shot up and he blubbered.
“Please don’t put me in prison!” He looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Do you know what you did was wrong?” I got a small nod in response. “Why did you do it?”
“My step-brother bullies me. He threatens me for my lunch-money. I’d never get to eat lunch if I don’t do the same,” he said tearfully. I felt myself softening, but managed to leave the stern expression on my face unchanged. With the new section being opened, I was sure that we’d be able to help him in no time, although I knew that it was pure torture and suffering for him.
“Look. You’re not going to prison-
“Oh, thank you, thank-
“Listen,” I cut him off. “What you did was wrong and I know that you understand that. Just because someone bullies you it doesn’t mean you have to do the same to someone else. Write down either one of your parent’s or guardian’s number here. I will talk to them about your step-brother,” I said, producing a piece of paper from my coat and pushing it towards him. I got up and bought a sandwich and a coffee for take-away. I placed it down on the table next to the boy. “Hopefully this will be enough for now,” I said as he gazed at me gratefully like I was some sort of godly apparition. I pocketed the piece of paper on which the boy had written down a phone number. “What’s your name?” I questioned.
“Ned Rogers,”
“Alright, Mr Rogers, please drop by our office tomorrow. You aren’t going to prison. I didn’t file you for anything. I just want to talk to you about this. If I’m not there, you can always talk to anyone from our staff and tell them about what’s been going on with you. We’re here to help you, don’t worry,” I said reassuringly. He gathered up the food as if he were holding some gold. “I trust that you won’t be doing this again,” I said. He nodded fervently. “Alright. You can go now,” I said.
“Thank you,” he said, and with one last look he floated out of the coffeehouse, cradling the food in his arms. I followed him out and resumed my walk.
I took a deep breath in from the air of a world that encouraged a righteous way of life and equality. I knew that there were flaws in the system that was in place before the one we have now, but I was grateful for it being so, for it paved the path for our world being what it is today.
