Commuting in the Philippines is a staggering and herculean experience. Squeezing nearly half a million people in a metal train every day is something one must probably get used to when living in a city. You get to see a variety of people in different stages of life in these zones of liminality: a worshipper in the midst of a prayer for safety, students clutching their backpacks filled with books and paper in their arms, the elderly being offered a seat, and children grasping the hand of their parents—afraid to lose their lifeline in the sea of people. It is not uncommon to find more than one commuter taking refuge in music as they wait for their stop. But for Ash Nocum (II, MEE), her headphones provide more than just the comfort of music during a long commute. If you look closely, they do more than just play music; they play a more important role—keeping the noise out.
Loud noises may not warrant a second glance from the majority of us, but they are a trigger for Ash who deals with depression and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Ash is not alone—the Philippine Star reported in 2018 that mental illness is the third most common form of disability in the country.
On facilities
Not having an outright explanation for how and why things occur—why one thing is a trigger point and another is not—is one of the underlying difficulties of dealing with mental illnesses and other psychological conditions. Marga Uy (AB-COM, ‘18) noticed she often had panic attacks out of exhaustion or even due to warm weather; but not everyone could grasp that. “People dismiss [the panic attacks] as being dramatic, so I always end up in bad mental shape after a rigorous activity because no one understood or believed me.”
While the clinic is prepared to address whatever physical ailments a Lasallian might have while in campus, the same can not be said regarding non-physical ailments or conditions. “I was sent to the clinic due to a panic attack on two separate occasions. [On] both occasions, I was just given water and told to lie down on a bed with no emotional comfort,” Marga explains. The clinic also had poor cellular reception so it was difficult for her to contact her family and friends.
The Office of Counseling and Career Services (OCCS) offers counselling for students who need help from trained professionals, but Marga confesses that her experience with the OCCS was not the best, “I can see their willingness to help; however, I personally feel that they need to improve in their demeanor when giving advice. I hear that their counselling has worked for others, but for me, it personally did not.” While Marga did not find much success from their counsel, there are other students who did find their help invaluable. It is clear though that there are still things that the University can do to improve the way they address people with these needs.
On adjustments
Physical Education classes in Razon are a certainty for every DLSU student. For Dominic Rodriguez (I, AB-POM), they were something to fear. Walking with a limp in his right leg due to cerebral palsy when he was prematurely born at seven months, he was worried that people would stare at him when he jogged around Razon—something he is terribly familiar with as he experienced worse when he was in high school.
Initially recommended by the clinic for modified PE classes, Dominic chose to stay in the regular class—a decision that came easy for him as he was assured by his professor that he would be there every step of the way. He also saw the same thoughtfulness from his other professors who inquired sensitively if they would need to adjust the class for him. This “friendly and accommodating” campus environment was one of the reasons he chose DLSU.
Extending compassion and understanding does not require grand gestures. Marga shares, “There was one GREATWK professor [who] clasped both of my hands at the last meeting and told me very encouraging words. I won’t forget that, especially since she came from the older generation, a generation that allegedly does not grasp the meaning of mental illnesses.” Small things can make a huge impact in helping people with special needs feel more included, feel just as gifted and capable, and treated with respect as any other individual.
Marga remarks, however, that public understanding is generally limited to the more well-known diseases “like depression, anxiety, OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder)”, but many still fail to recognize “personality disorders, schizophrenia, ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder), and PTSD” as real illnesses that are just as valid.
The classroom—a safe learning space?
Not everyone was lucky enough to have considerate professors like Dominic and Marga. “One of [my triggers] is loud shouting voices…I had one professor who used to be a preacher, so he shouted a lot, and I told him about my condition and my triggers. He replied that that’s how he teaches and I have to get used to it,” Ash recounts the experience that made it more difficult for her to approach faculty members regarding her condition. “After that, I didn’t want [to tell other professors]. I didn’t want to be a burden.”
Such aversion toward listening or adjusting comes off as a denial of the individual’s needs while still expecting the person to function—to react, behave, and perform tasks—the way others without the condition would. An insensitive sentiment disregards just how drastic the consequences may be on one’s well-being; be it a visible disability or an illness that is not as easy to notice, there is no such thing as just dealing with it.
The inconsistency in experiences within our own campus just goes to show that—although disabilities and mental illnesses are probably better understood now than they were a few decades ago—we still have a long way to go to achieve a more pronounced and encompassing sense of respect and acceptance in our community.
Moving toward a more inclusive space
Despite DLSU generally being understanding of people with special needs. Ash suggests more proactive approaches by the University such as having mental health orientations for incoming frosh to better help students cope with mental illnesses. Marga believes that the community can learn more on how to interact with Persons with Disabilities (PWDs), “I know a lot of people who genuinely want to help but [have] no avenue to learn, so I hope that DLSU and even its students will have the initiative to ask professionals and those with mental illness on how they want to be treated.” Aside from having programs regarding mental health awareness, the physical layout of the school can be improved to be more accessible for people with physical disabilities like Dominic as there are still some buildings on campus without ramps or elevators.
For Dominic, the way forward is through realizing that requiring assistance is not the same as being helpless, especially not when it is coupled with deprecating eyes of pity. As he points out, “Being disabled might mean not being able to do some things like others can, but that doesn’t mean I can’t at least try…Our imperfections or insecurities [don’t] make us any less of a person, because we all have some things we can and cannot do regardless of whether we have a disability or not.” Indeed being treated “normally” is sometimes the best way to make a PWD feel included. Ash confesses that she prefers being treated as “normal” because despite her disability, she is still as capable as anyone and it makes her feel accepted.
Dominic refuses to be ashamed; and his PWD card or ID is just one of his ways to dispel the stigma. Aside from being a great help in his family’s expenses and an aid in his daily commute, the booklet that comes with it is also a great aid for further explaining to his friends the realities of his disability.
Despite having both depression and PTSD, Ash still does not have a PWD ID, “My parents want to believe that I don’t have this sickness…if I get a PWD ID then the sickness is real [for them] and they’ll [finally] have to believe it.” It is clear that there is a long way to go before the stigma will truly be dispelled but, hopefully, times are changing. People like Ash, Marga, and Dominic are proof of people being more than their disabilities; they are real living people with lives as complex as anyone else’s who deserve to feel respected and accepted in their entirety.
