People are often surprised when I publicly share that depression, childhood PTSD, suicidal ideation and substance use were part of my life for well over two decades, starting when I was about 15. That’s not a very presidential thing to say.
Like many people, I grew up in a dysfunctional, unsafe home. My father was losing a battle against his own demons and drank hard to find the strength to keep going. That made him unpredictable, controlling, tyrannical and abusive. Living in close quarters with someone like this is destabilizing and terrifying. You’re always on guard, and it takes its toll.
It takes a long time to heal, but it’s always possible. Today, I am 11 years sober and largely free from fear, rage, shame and the chronic pain that came from keeping it all inside.
My story is not unusual. As a society, we like to think of families as nice, safe and warm, but many are not. According to 2018 data from Statistics Canada, about six in 10 individuals report experiencing some type of child maltreatment, often multiple types, before they are 15 years old. Childhood trauma, often multigenerational trauma, is a major epidemic, largely undiagnosed, that underlies a huge proportion of mental health issues, substance use and suicides. The COVID-19 pandemic has further exacerbated this.
As I’ve learned, the effects of childhood trauma linger as we grow older. They exert a negative influence on our thinking and behavior well into adulthood, including our time at university. For many students, the challenges of academic life, combined with unresolved trauma, anxiety and depression, create a perfect storm that make managing day-to-day life incredibly difficult. Add to this the escalating cost of housing, food, and general instability of our times, and the burden can become too much to bear.
Recent data from the Canadian Alliance of Student Associations revealed that 32 per cent of students rate their mental health as “poor” or “very poor,” while 46 per cent have experienced depression, and 38 per cent have had suicidal thoughts. These challenges directly affect both academic performance and quality of life.
Universities can be part of the solution. At The University of British Columbia, we have made mental health and well-being a priority, recognizing that change requires integrating wellbeing throughout campus life. From counselling services embedded within faculties and residences, to therapy groups and culturally tailored programs for Indigenous students, our approach is broad and inclusive. Recognizing that substance use is often intertwined with mental health struggles, UBC offers harm reduction resources, including on-campus naloxone training, drug-checking services, and peer-led recovery groups.
Improving mental health also requires tackling the systemic socio-economic issues that affect well-being. At UBC, we are investing in solutions aimed at affordability, including expanding below-market on-campus housing to over 15,000 student beds, food security initiatives, $10/day childcare on campus, and open educational resources to reduce the cost of textbooks.
Universities alone cannot solve a mental health crisis rooted in complex societal issues, but as we educate the next generation, we have a responsibility to lead. Now, more than ever, all universities and postsecondary institutions must advocate for and prioritize significant investments in mental health and well-being. This will require support from both provincial and federal governments, and the recognition that, just like funding for learning and skills acquisition, this is not a cost but an investment. Supporting mental health today is essential for a healthier, more resilient and more prosperous future for all Canadians.
My father would have been 81 this month but he passed away a long time ago without ever admitting to himself or to others that he was deeply unwell. That it was stigma is and what stigma does. I think about him often with surprising love and gratitude, and wonder if his life could have been different if he had received help.
I am blessed that my own journey took a different turn. Education was always a lifeline and I somehow managed to study through it all. I owe a debt to higher education that I can never repay. In time, I also found the strength to reach out for help and it has made all the difference. My hope is that, with sustained commitment and investment from universities and government, today’s students can find the same hope – in a place designed not only for intellectual growth but for healing, where all students can graduate whole, free and fulfilled.
Benoit-Antoine Bacon is president and vice-chancellor and professor of psychology at the University of British Columbia. Sharing his own lived experience, he advocates nationally for open conversations about mental health and substance use.
An admirable and very courageous post. Thank you Dr. Bacon. Mental health issues exist because we have don’t trust our inner guidance which anchors itself through love and respect in our childhood. You have overcome your demons and your journey can provide a lot of hope to those who suffer.
Dear President Bacon,
Thank you for your courageous sharing about your experiences. My son went through a very similar experience, is 27 and is still learning ways to cope with PTSD and other issues from that trauma. I will share your story with him as it is so inspiring. It helps one to know one is not in the boat alone. It helps to hear that somehow, you kept going as I hope he can find the strength to do.
Thank you Dr. Bacon for your candid and reality-based assessment on the growing mental health crisis, in Canada that is seen on university campuses. It is not only the universities, but also goverments to invest resources for mental health services in our communities for which universities (and colleges) play a key role.