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A problem with its benefits

Elizabeth Shin’s case also brings up another pressing issue of student mental health—namely, how we view depression.

Depression is awful and debilitating, as anyone who’s suffered through it knows. Millions have suffered through it. But there are also positive aspects to a melancholy temperament. There is truth in the stereotype of the mad genius, and perhaps the genius wouldn’t be so brilliant if he wasn’t mad. What else but melancholy could be the muse for artists from Van Gogh to Schumann to Virginia Woolf? The list goes on, including modern greats such as William Styron, whose book Darkness Visible chronicled his own bout with mental illness. The shadow self creeps through the canon from Beethoven to Emily Dickinson, inspiring art that couldn’t have been created by happier people. For some people, medication is necessary. But I wonder how many poems won’t be written because the potential poet has never experienced long, dark nights of the soul?

Two steps to healing

Instead of adopting in loco parentis mental health policies, colleges and students should take a two-pronged approach to suicide prevention. First, we need a more nuanced view of depression. Melancholy is closely tied to creativity and intelligence—two things MIT students such as Elizabeth had in spades. Depression does not lead inevitably to suicide. A recent government survey found that 10 percent of college students had contemplated suicide in the past year. But actual deaths are still rare enough to garner headlines. If 74% of MIT students suffer from emotional problems, these problems are, to a degree, normal.

There’s much in life that’s downright depressing—failure, alienation, loss. No wonder people feel gloomy on occasion. “Americans are saddled with the idea that we can and should be happy,” Susanna Kaysen, author of Girl, Interrupted, writes.

What’s more, just because colleges shouldn’t act as babysitters to adult students doesn’t mean that everyone has to go it alone. Administrators aren’t the only ones who can look out for troubled students. Everyone can, and everyone should.

College is tough, and the pressure has never been higher. On too many campuses, friends and lovers take a backseat to work and other duties. It’s easier to let relationships slide than to make time for them. Who hasn’t been guilty of breaking a coffee date with a friend who’s down when a lab report calls?

The most effective suicide prevention is a caring community. A caring community looks out for its members, and accepts that some people will never be happy all the time. Most depressed people do overcome their illness. Sometimes it takes talking, sometimes it takes medicine, sometimes it just takes time—and someone who’s willing to listen. By all accounts, Elizabeth Shin’s friends did try. They sat up at night with her, trying to talk her away from her demons. But if Elizabeth was determined enough to sit still while she burned to death, there is little her friends, or MIT could have done to stop her.

Others, however, can be stopped. So talk to a hallmate who seems lonely. Keep that coffee date with a friend who’s got the blues. If college students create time for more meaningful human interaction, instances of self-destructive behavior can be reduced—without making the administration Big Brother.