A couple weekends ago, my husband and I took our dog to Gardner Hill
Conservation Area in Stow, MA, for an easy hike along the Assabet River. A hint of smoke flavored the crisp air—was someone grilling, or was that a wildfire somewhere? A raft of ducks paddled leisurely down Elizabeth Brook. Leaves lined the trail, a satisfying crunch beneath our boots. An occasional squirrel chattered in a tree above, either calling to another or scolding us for intruding. The sky was blue, so blue. I felt so alive.
On our hike, we talked about how simply being in nature could improve well-being. Our conversation made me think of all that I’ve learned since we started examining immigrant mental health at the Leah Zallman Center (LZC). For the past three years, we’ve partnered with the City of Boston Mayor’s Office for Immigrant Advancement (MOIA) on MOIA’s Weaving Well-being Initiative. As the research and evaluation partner, we’ve lifted up the culturally rooted, holistic approaches that immigrant-led and -serving organizations around Boston are using to reach immigrant families, destigmatize mental health care, and foster well-being. Some approaches include organizing group hikes, facilitating art and crafts spaces, and offering music and sound therapy. With deep understanding of their own communities’ needs and perspectives, immigrant leaders have tailored their organizations’ programming to create trauma-informed, culturally and linguistically responsive spaces for community members to build resilience, exchange knowledge, and make new friends. And we’ve seen the results: Among participants who filled out the program survey, 91% felt they could be themselves in their program, 94% learned a new skill or practice, and 91% said that the program helped them contribute to the happiness and well-being of others.
At MOIA’s inaugural Immigrant Advancement Forum last month, I had the privilege of being on a panel with two program leaders from the Weaving Well-being Initiative. We talked about the importance of initiatives like these in caring for immigrant community members and building a sense of belonging and well-being. Our panel was just one of many at the Immigrant Advancement Forum, which brought together over 250 immigrant leaders, community members, policymakers, and researchers to envision what “Our Future Now” could look like. Held at the Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the United States Senate, there was power in seeing the replica of the U.S. Senate Chamber filled with immigrants from all over the world who’ve made Boston their home.
I’m one of those immigrants. I came to the United States 11 years ago as a college freshman, genuinely believing I would go “home” after my four years in college. It was both startling and sobering to realize last year that I’ve now lived in the United States longer than I’ve lived in Malaysia, that I know more about U.S. politics, systems, and culture than I do the Malaysian equivalents. I’ve been reflecting on my status as a privileged immigrant, with job security and benefits, access to health insurance, English language skills, and a wonderful community around me. Not every immigrant in this country has that; not every immigrant in this country will have that, especially with the coming changes in the federal administration.
The week of the U.S. elections, LZC hosted a coffee chat that focused on immigrant mental health. In her opening, LZC director Jessica Santos asked the 60+ attendees how they were feeling and what coping skills they use in times of stress. Responses covered the gamut: Folks were “exhausted,” “bewildered,” “hopeful,” “defiant,” and “reignited for action,” to name a few. People also shared coping strategies like disconnecting from social media, practicing mindfulness and spirituality, engaging in creative arts, and embracing community/collective care.
I was again reminded of the importance of caring for one another and ourselves—mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and socially. More and more, I’ve learned that we have to care for ourselves and our communities in order to give of ourselves and support one another.
During the coffee chat, someone asked, “How do we cheer up our clients, who are scared about their future in this country? The cold winter and the Holidays can lead to depression, and yet they have to deal with this fear of being deported?” We took some time with the panelists to think about our response, which I wanted to share below:
- Provide people with information and resources. Keep a list of legal aid and community/mutual support organizations for different language groups, to help families navigate their situation. As local policy and advocacy organizations update their “know your rights” information and work closely together, share it in real time with families.
- Offer emotional support and a listening ear by creating a safe space for people to express their fears.
- Offer practical assistance like help with paperwork, transportation, or childcare, and remind them to prioritize self-care or seeking professional counseling if needed. If you can’t provide that support, refer them to someone else who can.
- Encourage community care and connections by facilitating informal interactions and activities with other undocumented individuals or families, organizing social events, and promoting participation in community activities.
- Take a verbal stand and let people know you support their rights.
- Inspire hope by focusing on people’s strengths and potential future possibilities, discussing potential pathways to legal status or citizenship and encouraging them to set concrete goals and seek assistance to meet those goals, if policy pathways make it possible.
- Pivot in your own work to focus on well-being and care in our communities.
There’s a lot of work ahead, with a lot of unknowns. But our work at the Leah Zallman Center and the Institute for Community Health will continue. As our executive director, Sarah Jalbert, wrote, we’ll continue to stand against all forms of hatred, racism, bigotry, sexism, and gender-based oppression. We’ll continue to believe that all people, regardless of identity, deserve dignity and respect. We’ll continue to believe that health and well-being should be within reach for every single person. And finally, we’ll continue to stand in allyship with organizations working to ensure these principles are put into action in their communities.
