Honk if you feel excluded
By David Cornwell
NCMH Executive Director
Forgive the analogy. Certainly no disrespect is intended to the citizens of our state affected by mental illness, either with an illness, as a family member, loved one, or taxpayer. But for a few moments, let’s compare those affected by mental illness to cars. Taking the analogy one step further, let’s compare the state’s mental health system to a huge car lot.
Now to make a long analogy short (or at least shorter), let’s say the cars start running a little rough and this really messes up the efficient operation of the car lot as well. The manager hired by the owners, John and Jane Q. Public, and his co-manager, a Mr. Assembly who likes to be called “General,” start working to make the cars and car lot run smoothly again.
Eventually, a plan is devised. But the manager, Mr. Easley, also runs a lot of other enterprises and takes money out of the car lot to help run them. (The General is often out of town and the car lot’s incorporation papers allow Mr. Easley to do this.)
With all the other problems the car lot has, it’s not long before the cars start running worse and worse and worse. Years pass and the manager’s contract is about to expire and he says he’d like to leave his job with the cars and car lot running the best they can. Of course, no one knows if this is true, because he’ll probably be looking for a bigger job after his contract expires. So, it’s always best to sound your best.
So his assistant manager, a Mr. Benton, who’s not been an assistant manager for long, steps in. The assistant manager has never worked with cars before but seems to want the best. Of course, in less than a year, a new manager will be hired who will likely hire his or her own assistant manager. So, the assistant manager’s efforts may be little more than wheel spinning anyway.
Still, the assistant manager says, “Gosh, this is pretty much of an emergency. We’ve got cars wrecking everywhere. We’ve got to fix it quick.” So he brings in some of the finest mechanics in the land. It’s no easy task, especially considering that John and Jane haven’t fussed at the manager, assistant manager or the General much to spend more money on the cars. Truth is, John and Jane don’t really care that much about the cars unless one of them runs off the road and hurts their family or their property. But in fairness to John and Jane, car accidents aren’t really news to the media anymore unless they’re really spectacular.
Some of the mechanics will be looking at how to keep the cars out of the garage, others will be looking at how to make the garages more efficient and meet quality standards, and still others will study what to do when the cars break down and need emergency help.
Make no mistake that these are highly qualified mechanics, some of the best.
But there are problems with the plan. First, the assistant manager has overlooked mechanics from different parts of the land. In some places, mechanics and garages are few and far between, don’t offer all the services of more urban areas and have unique problems. But most importantly, the assistant manager has overlooked the essential fact that he’s not dealing with cars, but people.
It’s a fitting analogy for Secretary of Health and Human Services Dempsey Benton’s selection of 32 committee members to form the Facility Management Working Groups to plan on how to at least patch up some components of the state’s incredibly dysfunctional mental health system. And while at least two members of the group represent advocacy organizations, and one has grappled with substance abuse, not one individual with a mental illness or family member is apparently represented.
For millennia, mental illness has been an illness of exclusion and the Secretary’s appointments only aggravate and strengthen the sense of exclusion felt by those affected by mental illness. If the Secretary learned nothing else from his predecessor, Carmen Hooker Odom, you would think it would be the concepts of sensitivity and inclusion.
Again, most, if not all, of the committee members are concerned and well respected individuals and their service on the group is to be appreicated. But there is a profound difference between treating, regulating or profiting from illness and living with it. And there is no shortage of individuals with an illness or family members who know the system, know the illness and can bring just as much to be table. To exclude them is unconscionable.
But excluded we are. One or more committees have already met and another meeting is scheduled. I’ll be diplomatic and say perhaps it was just an oversight. That even if the letter of the open meeting law wasn’t violated (and that’s by no means saying it wasn’t) that the spirit of it was, but that the Secretary plans on eventually notifying the public not only of the group’s meetings, but of its existence.
Certainly he’s been made aware of the oversight. Just as certainly, there is an immediate need to fix it and not just with token appointments. And while he’s at it, Secretary Benton might also toss out the marketing manual inherited from his predecessor, because any plan will be a hard sell under these circumstances. Unfortunately, maybe it’s not even planned to be marketed to those it affects.
Again, these are fine mechanics and I’m hopeful Secretary Benton has the best of intentions. But I encourage you not to honk, but shout loudly to your newspaper, your legislator, your governor, and the Secretary to remind them that we’re people, not cars.