Duy Nguyen, MD

Fundamentally, an immigrant parent’s traditional role as teacher of culture and social systems to their children is undermined by immigration. In their native country, they learned throughout their life cultural norms and systems that defined their environment. When these parents immigrate to a new country, their different set of knowledge may not be applicable in many ways to their new environment.

The Disruption of Social Roles

Culturally, language is one of the most important types of knowledge parents pass to their children. Nearly half of adult immigrants in the United States have limited English proficiency. ¹

Their children often learn the language faster, often placing these children in the position of interpreters for their parents. These parents can become dependent on their children to negotiate social structures instead of vice versa, potentially undermining the social hierarchy and role of parenting. ² Both Mr. Contreras and Dr. Nguyen recall that as children of immigrant parents — from Mexico and Vietnam, respectively — they commanded English better than their parents, which often made them take on more “adult roles.” For example, Dr. Nguyen recalls that his mother would solicit his help in grocery shopping because she could neither navigate the aisles effectively nor ask for help. Mr. Contreras commonly found himself acting as an impromptu medical translator for his mother on several occasions. This dependence of immigrant parents on their children for guidance in their host country can be pervasive in other social structures such as legal and academic.

Impact on School

Potentially, an immigrant parent’s lack of knowledge of the language and systems of their host country can make them ineffective advocates for their children at school. Mr. Contreras’s intervention for his patient as a medical student demonstrates this in the arena of school.

Mr. Contreras was rotating at a hospital burn unit in 2023 when R, a young middle school student, and his mother arrived in the emergency department. An incident had occurred at his school. R had been the victim of aggravated battery and assault, sustaining a 3x2 cm burn on his forearm from students placing hot glue onto a piece of cardboard then immediately onto his skin and silencing him by covering his mouth. For months the older students had been bullying R. R’s mother made multiple attempts with both the school’s front desk and counselors to address the issue, but to no avail. R himself, though encouraged to speak up, did not out of fear. As Mr. Contreras realized the situation and the impasse, he used his fluency in Spanish and English to facilitate a joint call with the school district. Within 10 minutes, they were able to connect with a student safety specialist and launch a full investigation. A language barrier and the lack of knowledge of their rights and school system had prevented R’s mother from effectively advocating for her child’s safety.

In Dr. Nguyen’s experience as a teacher, even in classrooms dominated by minority students, the advocacy for students struggling in classes was disproportionate. It favored White parents, but also generally more educated families. This is further supported by a study of 225 schools across six states of kindergarten children showing similar trends, that African American, Latino, and less-educated parents were less involved in their children’s education as reported by teachers.³ It is important to note that in this study teachers were 80% White, 9% Latino, 7% African American, 3% multiracial, and 1% Asian American, suggesting that cultural discrepancy between teachers and parents could be an important factor affecting parent-teacher communication. Dr. Nguyen also recalled trying to discipline several students who were disruptive in his class by telling them he would speak to their parents. Several times, these students would counter defiantly, “Well, good luck, they can’t speak English.” The parents’ dependency on their children to communicate with teachers undermined the abilities of both adults to manage their behaviors and promote learning.
 

The Mental Health of Immigrant Parents  

Migrants often have greater incidence of mental health problems, including depression, PTSD, and anxiety, from a combination of peri-migrational experiences. ⁴ Immigrant mothers are known to have higher rates of post-natal depression, which cause problems later with child development. ⁵ Though she warns larger studies are needed, Dr. Fazel’s review of Croatian refugees suggests that displacement from one’s native country is a risk factor for poorer mental health, namely due to difficulty in psychosocial adaptation. ⁶ The likely mechanism is that lack of access to one’s language and culture, or a language and culture that one can navigate effectively, exacerbates, even engenders mental health sequelae. Because of this, first-generation immigrant children often face harsher and more violent parenting. ^7,8 Immigrant parents also may have less access to mental health resources since they often resort to their own cultural practices. Both Mr. Contreras’s and Dr. Nguyen’s following narratives of their mothers’ struggle with mental health illustrate the causes and consequences.

Mr. Contreras, who grew up in a Mexican immigrant household in Los Angeles, saw firsthand how his mother, who faced language barriers and a distrust of Western medicine, turned to traditional healers and herbal remedies for her health needs. Accompanying her to doctor appointments as her translator, he often felt the disconnect between her cultural background and the Western medical system. For her, seeking help from traditional healers was not just about addressing physical ailments but also about finding comfort and familiarity in practices rooted in her cultural beliefs. This preference for cultural or religious methods for mental health support is not uncommon among Mexican immigrant families.

Dr. Nguyen, whose mother was a refugee from Vietnam, recalls her constant depressed mood and suicidal thoughts in the immediate years after she resettled in San Diego. This was caused mostly by the missing of her social supports in Vietnam, her difficulty adjusting to American culture and language, and her difficulty finding work. Often her depression and stress took a darker turn in terms of more violent parenting. Of course, the cause of her poor mental health is hard to parse from the traumas and violence she had faced as a refugee, but in subsequent years, her many brothers and sisters who immigrated through a more orderly process also displayed similar mental health vulnerabilities.

   

The Mental Health of Children of Immigrant Parents  

The relationship between an immigrant parent’s poor mental health and their children is difficult to parse from what we know about native parents and their children. But the primary differences appear to be a great disruption of social roles, the effects of migration itself, and the oftentimes more strict and disciplinarian parenting style as discussed above. Given this, one would expect immigrant children to suffer greater mental health difficulties. However, a recent study of almost 500,000 children in Canada revealed decreased prevalence of conduct disorder, ADHD, and mood and anxiety disorders in immigrant youth, both first- and second-generation, as compared to non-immigrants. ⁹ This perhaps surprising result highlights how much more we need to understand about the effects of culture on the mental health diagnosis of immigrant youth. It suggests differences in mental health access and use from the cultural factors we mentioned above, to problems with using Western-based mental criteria and symptomatology for diagnosing non-Western children. It can even suggest the underestimation of the protective effects of native culture such as strong ethnic identity and cultural support systems, thereby challenging a purely deficit mental health model of the immigrant experience.

Summary

Dr. Duy Nguyen and Mr. Andrew Contreras are both children of immigrant parents from Vietnam and Mexico, respectively. Dr. Nguyen spent 15 years as an English teacher at San Leandro High School, whose student body was roughly 50% Hispanic and 25% Asian, making immigrant parents a huge swath of his educational partners. Mr. Contreras founded a high school outreach program where he interacted with K-12 children of immigrant youth. In addition, he partners with Fresno’s Economic Opportunity Commission to educate immigrant Hispanic parents and their teens on having difficult conversations with their teenage children on topics such as mental and reproductive health. Dr. Duy Nguyen and Mr. Andrew Contreras will explore the differences in immigrant parent-child relationships, compared with native ones, as they relate to mental health ramifications for the child and parent. They reveal immigrant mental health disruptions regarding culture and language, familial hierarchies, parenting styles, as well as parental mental health sequelae brought about by immigration using research and their own personal experiences.

Dr. Nguyen is a second-year resident at the University of California, San Francisco, Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously. Mr. Contreras is currently a 4th-year medical student at University of California, San Francisco, and applying to Psychiatry for the 2025 match.

References  

1. Rao A et al. Five Key Facts About Immigrants With Limited English Proficiency. KFF. 2024 March 14. https://www.kff.org/racial-equity-and-health-policy/issue-brief-five-key-facts-about-immigrants-with-limited-english-proficiency .

2. Raffaetà R. Migration and Parenting: Reviewing the Debate and Calling for Future Research. International Journal of Migration, Health and Social Care. 2016;12(1):38-50. doi: 10.1108/IJMHSC-12-2014-0052/full/html .

3. Nzinga‐Johnson S et al. Teacher‐Parent Relationships and School Involvement Among Racially and Educationally Diverse Parents of Kindergartners. Elementary School Journal. 2009 Sept. doi: 10.1086/598844 .

4. Close C et al. The Mental Health and Wellbeing of First Generation Migrants: A Systematic-Narrative Review of Reviews. Global Health. 2016 Aug 25;12(1):47. doi: 10.1186/s12992-016-0187-3.

5. Collins CH et al. Refugee, Asylum Seeker, Immigrant Women and Postnatal Depression: Rates and Risk Factors. Arch Womens Ment Health. 2011 Feb;14(1):3-11. doi: 10.1007/s00737-010-0198-7 .

6. Fazel M, Betancourt TS. Preventive Mental Health Interventions for Refugee Children and Adolescents in High-Income Settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-132. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5 .

7. Pottie K et al. Do First Generation Immigrant Adolescents Face Higher Rates of Bullying, Violence and Suicidal Behaviours Than Do Third Generation and Native Born? J Immigr Minor Health. 2015 Oct;17(5):1557-1566. doi: 10.1007/s10903-014-0108-6.

8. Smokowski PR, Bacallao ML. Acculturation and Aggression in Latino Adolescents: A Structural Model Focusing on Cultural Risk Factors and Assets. J Abnorm Child Psychol. 2006 Oct;34(5):659-673. doi: 10.1007/s10802-006-9049-4 .

9. Gadermann AM et al. Prevalence of Mental Health Disorders Among Immigrant, Refugee, and Nonimmigrant Children and Youth in British Columbia, Canada. JAMA Netw Open. 2022;5(2):e2144934. doi: 10.1001/jamanetworkopen.2021.44934 .

Fundamentally, an immigrant parent’s traditional role as teacher of culture and social systems to their children is undermined by immigration. In their native country, they learned throughout their life cultural norms and systems that defined their environment. When these parents immigrate to a new country, their different set of knowledge may not be applicable in many ways to their new environment.

The Disruption of Social Roles

Culturally, language is one of the most important types of knowledge parents pass to their children. Nearly half of adult immigrants in the United States have limited English proficiency. ¹

Their children often learn the language faster, often placing these children in the position of interpreters for their parents. These parents can become dependent on their children to negotiate social structures instead of vice versa, potentially undermining the social hierarchy and role of parenting. ² Both Mr. Contreras and Dr. Nguyen recall that as children of immigrant parents — from Mexico and Vietnam, respectively — they commanded English better than their parents, which often made them take on more “adult roles.” For example, Dr. Nguyen recalls that his mother would solicit his help in grocery shopping because she could neither navigate the aisles effectively nor ask for help. Mr. Contreras commonly found himself acting as an impromptu medical translator for his mother on several occasions. This dependence of immigrant parents on their children for guidance in their host country can be pervasive in other social structures such as legal and academic.

Impact on School

Potentially, an immigrant parent’s lack of knowledge of the language and systems of their host country can make them ineffective advocates for their children at school. Mr. Contreras’s intervention for his patient as a medical student demonstrates this in the arena of school.

Mr. Contreras was rotating at a hospital burn unit in 2023 when R, a young middle school student, and his mother arrived in the emergency department. An incident had occurred at his school. R had been the victim of aggravated battery and assault, sustaining a 3x2 cm burn on his forearm from students placing hot glue onto a piece of cardboard then immediately onto his skin and silencing him by covering his mouth. For months the older students had been bullying R. R’s mother made multiple attempts with both the school’s front desk and counselors to address the issue, but to no avail. R himself, though encouraged to speak up, did not out of fear. As Mr. Contreras realized the situation and the impasse, he used his fluency in Spanish and English to facilitate a joint call with the school district. Within 10 minutes, they were able to connect with a student safety specialist and launch a full investigation. A language barrier and the lack of knowledge of their rights and school system had prevented R’s mother from effectively advocating for her child’s safety.

In Dr. Nguyen’s experience as a teacher, even in classrooms dominated by minority students, the advocacy for students struggling in classes was disproportionate. It favored White parents, but also generally more educated families. This is further supported by a study of 225 schools across six states of kindergarten children showing similar trends, that African American, Latino, and less-educated parents were less involved in their children’s education as reported by teachers.³ It is important to note that in this study teachers were 80% White, 9% Latino, 7% African American, 3% multiracial, and 1% Asian American, suggesting that cultural discrepancy between teachers and parents could be an important factor affecting parent-teacher communication. Dr. Nguyen also recalled trying to discipline several students who were disruptive in his class by telling them he would speak to their parents. Several times, these students would counter defiantly, “Well, good luck, they can’t speak English.” The parents’ dependency on their children to communicate with teachers undermined the abilities of both adults to manage their behaviors and promote learning.
 

The Mental Health of Immigrant Parents  

Migrants often have greater incidence of mental health problems, including depression, PTSD, and anxiety, from a combination of peri-migrational experiences. ⁴ Immigrant mothers are known to have higher rates of post-natal depression, which cause problems later with child development. ⁵ Though she warns larger studies are needed, Dr. Fazel’s review of Croatian refugees suggests that displacement from one’s native country is a risk factor for poorer mental health, namely due to difficulty in psychosocial adaptation. ⁶ The likely mechanism is that lack of access to one’s language and culture, or a language and culture that one can navigate effectively, exacerbates, even engenders mental health sequelae. Because of this, first-generation immigrant children often face harsher and more violent parenting. ^7,8 Immigrant parents also may have less access to mental health resources since they often resort to their own cultural practices. Both Mr. Contreras’s and Dr. Nguyen’s following narratives of their mothers’ struggle with mental health illustrate the causes and consequences.

Mr. Contreras, who grew up in a Mexican immigrant household in Los Angeles, saw firsthand how his mother, who faced language barriers and a distrust of Western medicine, turned to traditional healers and herbal remedies for her health needs. Accompanying her to doctor appointments as her translator, he often felt the disconnect between her cultural background and the Western medical system. For her, seeking help from traditional healers was not just about addressing physical ailments but also about finding comfort and familiarity in practices rooted in her cultural beliefs. This preference for cultural or religious methods for mental health support is not uncommon among Mexican immigrant families.

Dr. Nguyen, whose mother was a refugee from Vietnam, recalls her constant depressed mood and suicidal thoughts in the immediate years after she resettled in San Diego. This was caused mostly by the missing of her social supports in Vietnam, her difficulty adjusting to American culture and language, and her difficulty finding work. Often her depression and stress took a darker turn in terms of more violent parenting. Of course, the cause of her poor mental health is hard to parse from the traumas and violence she had faced as a refugee, but in subsequent years, her many brothers and sisters who immigrated through a more orderly process also displayed similar mental health vulnerabilities.

   

The Mental Health of Children of Immigrant Parents  

The relationship between an immigrant parent’s poor mental health and their children is difficult to parse from what we know about native parents and their children. But the primary differences appear to be a great disruption of social roles, the effects of migration itself, and the oftentimes more strict and disciplinarian parenting style as discussed above. Given this, one would expect immigrant children to suffer greater mental health difficulties. However, a recent study of almost 500,000 children in Canada revealed decreased prevalence of conduct disorder, ADHD, and mood and anxiety disorders in immigrant youth, both first- and second-generation, as compared to non-immigrants. ⁹ This perhaps surprising result highlights how much more we need to understand about the effects of culture on the mental health diagnosis of immigrant youth. It suggests differences in mental health access and use from the cultural factors we mentioned above, to problems with using Western-based mental criteria and symptomatology for diagnosing non-Western children. It can even suggest the underestimation of the protective effects of native culture such as strong ethnic identity and cultural support systems, thereby challenging a purely deficit mental health model of the immigrant experience.

Summary

Dr. Duy Nguyen and Mr. Andrew Contreras are both children of immigrant parents from Vietnam and Mexico, respectively. Dr. Nguyen spent 15 years as an English teacher at San Leandro High School, whose student body was roughly 50% Hispanic and 25% Asian, making immigrant parents a huge swath of his educational partners. Mr. Contreras founded a high school outreach program where he interacted with K-12 children of immigrant youth. In addition, he partners with Fresno’s Economic Opportunity Commission to educate immigrant Hispanic parents and their teens on having difficult conversations with their teenage children on topics such as mental and reproductive health. Dr. Duy Nguyen and Mr. Andrew Contreras will explore the differences in immigrant parent-child relationships, compared with native ones, as they relate to mental health ramifications for the child and parent. They reveal immigrant mental health disruptions regarding culture and language, familial hierarchies, parenting styles, as well as parental mental health sequelae brought about by immigration using research and their own personal experiences.

Dr. Nguyen is a second-year resident at the University of California, San Francisco, Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously. Mr. Contreras is currently a 4th-year medical student at University of California, San Francisco, and applying to Psychiatry for the 2025 match.

References  

1. Rao A et al. Five Key Facts About Immigrants With Limited English Proficiency. KFF. 2024 March 14. https://www.kff.org/racial-equity-and-health-policy/issue-brief-five-key-facts-about-immigrants-with-limited-english-proficiency .

2. Raffaetà R. Migration and Parenting: Reviewing the Debate and Calling for Future Research. International Journal of Migration, Health and Social Care. 2016;12(1):38-50. doi: 10.1108/IJMHSC-12-2014-0052/full/html .

3. Nzinga‐Johnson S et al. Teacher‐Parent Relationships and School Involvement Among Racially and Educationally Diverse Parents of Kindergartners. Elementary School Journal. 2009 Sept. doi: 10.1086/598844 .

4. Close C et al. The Mental Health and Wellbeing of First Generation Migrants: A Systematic-Narrative Review of Reviews. Global Health. 2016 Aug 25;12(1):47. doi: 10.1186/s12992-016-0187-3.

5. Collins CH et al. Refugee, Asylum Seeker, Immigrant Women and Postnatal Depression: Rates and Risk Factors. Arch Womens Ment Health. 2011 Feb;14(1):3-11. doi: 10.1007/s00737-010-0198-7 .

6. Fazel M, Betancourt TS. Preventive Mental Health Interventions for Refugee Children and Adolescents in High-Income Settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-132. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5 .

7. Pottie K et al. Do First Generation Immigrant Adolescents Face Higher Rates of Bullying, Violence and Suicidal Behaviours Than Do Third Generation and Native Born? J Immigr Minor Health. 2015 Oct;17(5):1557-1566. doi: 10.1007/s10903-014-0108-6.

8. Smokowski PR, Bacallao ML. Acculturation and Aggression in Latino Adolescents: A Structural Model Focusing on Cultural Risk Factors and Assets. J Abnorm Child Psychol. 2006 Oct;34(5):659-673. doi: 10.1007/s10802-006-9049-4 .

9. Gadermann AM et al. Prevalence of Mental Health Disorders Among Immigrant, Refugee, and Nonimmigrant Children and Youth in British Columbia, Canada. JAMA Netw Open. 2022;5(2):e2144934. doi: 10.1001/jamanetworkopen.2021.44934 .

Fundamentally, an immigrant parent’s traditional role as teacher of culture and social systems to their children is undermined by immigration. In their native country, they learned throughout their life cultural norms and systems that defined their environment. When these parents immigrate to a new country, their different set of knowledge may not be applicable in many ways to their new environment.

The Disruption of Social Roles

Culturally, language is one of the most important types of knowledge parents pass to their children. Nearly half of adult immigrants in the United States have limited English proficiency. ¹

Their children often learn the language faster, often placing these children in the position of interpreters for their parents. These parents can become dependent on their children to negotiate social structures instead of vice versa, potentially undermining the social hierarchy and role of parenting. ² Both Mr. Contreras and Dr. Nguyen recall that as children of immigrant parents — from Mexico and Vietnam, respectively — they commanded English better than their parents, which often made them take on more “adult roles.” For example, Dr. Nguyen recalls that his mother would solicit his help in grocery shopping because she could neither navigate the aisles effectively nor ask for help. Mr. Contreras commonly found himself acting as an impromptu medical translator for his mother on several occasions. This dependence of immigrant parents on their children for guidance in their host country can be pervasive in other social structures such as legal and academic.

Impact on School

Potentially, an immigrant parent’s lack of knowledge of the language and systems of their host country can make them ineffective advocates for their children at school. Mr. Contreras’s intervention for his patient as a medical student demonstrates this in the arena of school.

Mr. Contreras was rotating at a hospital burn unit in 2023 when R, a young middle school student, and his mother arrived in the emergency department. An incident had occurred at his school. R had been the victim of aggravated battery and assault, sustaining a 3x2 cm burn on his forearm from students placing hot glue onto a piece of cardboard then immediately onto his skin and silencing him by covering his mouth. For months the older students had been bullying R. R’s mother made multiple attempts with both the school’s front desk and counselors to address the issue, but to no avail. R himself, though encouraged to speak up, did not out of fear. As Mr. Contreras realized the situation and the impasse, he used his fluency in Spanish and English to facilitate a joint call with the school district. Within 10 minutes, they were able to connect with a student safety specialist and launch a full investigation. A language barrier and the lack of knowledge of their rights and school system had prevented R’s mother from effectively advocating for her child’s safety.

In Dr. Nguyen’s experience as a teacher, even in classrooms dominated by minority students, the advocacy for students struggling in classes was disproportionate. It favored White parents, but also generally more educated families. This is further supported by a study of 225 schools across six states of kindergarten children showing similar trends, that African American, Latino, and less-educated parents were less involved in their children’s education as reported by teachers.³ It is important to note that in this study teachers were 80% White, 9% Latino, 7% African American, 3% multiracial, and 1% Asian American, suggesting that cultural discrepancy between teachers and parents could be an important factor affecting parent-teacher communication. Dr. Nguyen also recalled trying to discipline several students who were disruptive in his class by telling them he would speak to their parents. Several times, these students would counter defiantly, “Well, good luck, they can’t speak English.” The parents’ dependency on their children to communicate with teachers undermined the abilities of both adults to manage their behaviors and promote learning.
 

The Mental Health of Immigrant Parents  

Migrants often have greater incidence of mental health problems, including depression, PTSD, and anxiety, from a combination of peri-migrational experiences. ⁴ Immigrant mothers are known to have higher rates of post-natal depression, which cause problems later with child development. ⁵ Though she warns larger studies are needed, Dr. Fazel’s review of Croatian refugees suggests that displacement from one’s native country is a risk factor for poorer mental health, namely due to difficulty in psychosocial adaptation. ⁶ The likely mechanism is that lack of access to one’s language and culture, or a language and culture that one can navigate effectively, exacerbates, even engenders mental health sequelae. Because of this, first-generation immigrant children often face harsher and more violent parenting. ^7,8 Immigrant parents also may have less access to mental health resources since they often resort to their own cultural practices. Both Mr. Contreras’s and Dr. Nguyen’s following narratives of their mothers’ struggle with mental health illustrate the causes and consequences.

Mr. Contreras, who grew up in a Mexican immigrant household in Los Angeles, saw firsthand how his mother, who faced language barriers and a distrust of Western medicine, turned to traditional healers and herbal remedies for her health needs. Accompanying her to doctor appointments as her translator, he often felt the disconnect between her cultural background and the Western medical system. For her, seeking help from traditional healers was not just about addressing physical ailments but also about finding comfort and familiarity in practices rooted in her cultural beliefs. This preference for cultural or religious methods for mental health support is not uncommon among Mexican immigrant families.

Dr. Nguyen, whose mother was a refugee from Vietnam, recalls her constant depressed mood and suicidal thoughts in the immediate years after she resettled in San Diego. This was caused mostly by the missing of her social supports in Vietnam, her difficulty adjusting to American culture and language, and her difficulty finding work. Often her depression and stress took a darker turn in terms of more violent parenting. Of course, the cause of her poor mental health is hard to parse from the traumas and violence she had faced as a refugee, but in subsequent years, her many brothers and sisters who immigrated through a more orderly process also displayed similar mental health vulnerabilities.

   

The Mental Health of Children of Immigrant Parents  

The relationship between an immigrant parent’s poor mental health and their children is difficult to parse from what we know about native parents and their children. But the primary differences appear to be a great disruption of social roles, the effects of migration itself, and the oftentimes more strict and disciplinarian parenting style as discussed above. Given this, one would expect immigrant children to suffer greater mental health difficulties. However, a recent study of almost 500,000 children in Canada revealed decreased prevalence of conduct disorder, ADHD, and mood and anxiety disorders in immigrant youth, both first- and second-generation, as compared to non-immigrants. ⁹ This perhaps surprising result highlights how much more we need to understand about the effects of culture on the mental health diagnosis of immigrant youth. It suggests differences in mental health access and use from the cultural factors we mentioned above, to problems with using Western-based mental criteria and symptomatology for diagnosing non-Western children. It can even suggest the underestimation of the protective effects of native culture such as strong ethnic identity and cultural support systems, thereby challenging a purely deficit mental health model of the immigrant experience.

Summary

Dr. Duy Nguyen and Mr. Andrew Contreras are both children of immigrant parents from Vietnam and Mexico, respectively. Dr. Nguyen spent 15 years as an English teacher at San Leandro High School, whose student body was roughly 50% Hispanic and 25% Asian, making immigrant parents a huge swath of his educational partners. Mr. Contreras founded a high school outreach program where he interacted with K-12 children of immigrant youth. In addition, he partners with Fresno’s Economic Opportunity Commission to educate immigrant Hispanic parents and their teens on having difficult conversations with their teenage children on topics such as mental and reproductive health. Dr. Duy Nguyen and Mr. Andrew Contreras will explore the differences in immigrant parent-child relationships, compared with native ones, as they relate to mental health ramifications for the child and parent. They reveal immigrant mental health disruptions regarding culture and language, familial hierarchies, parenting styles, as well as parental mental health sequelae brought about by immigration using research and their own personal experiences.

Dr. Nguyen is a second-year resident at the University of California, San Francisco, Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously. Mr. Contreras is currently a 4th-year medical student at University of California, San Francisco, and applying to Psychiatry for the 2025 match.

References  

1. Rao A et al. Five Key Facts About Immigrants With Limited English Proficiency. KFF. 2024 March 14. https://www.kff.org/racial-equity-and-health-policy/issue-brief-five-key-facts-about-immigrants-with-limited-english-proficiency .

2. Raffaetà R. Migration and Parenting: Reviewing the Debate and Calling for Future Research. International Journal of Migration, Health and Social Care. 2016;12(1):38-50. doi: 10.1108/IJMHSC-12-2014-0052/full/html .

3. Nzinga‐Johnson S et al. Teacher‐Parent Relationships and School Involvement Among Racially and Educationally Diverse Parents of Kindergartners. Elementary School Journal. 2009 Sept. doi: 10.1086/598844 .

4. Close C et al. The Mental Health and Wellbeing of First Generation Migrants: A Systematic-Narrative Review of Reviews. Global Health. 2016 Aug 25;12(1):47. doi: 10.1186/s12992-016-0187-3.

5. Collins CH et al. Refugee, Asylum Seeker, Immigrant Women and Postnatal Depression: Rates and Risk Factors. Arch Womens Ment Health. 2011 Feb;14(1):3-11. doi: 10.1007/s00737-010-0198-7 .

6. Fazel M, Betancourt TS. Preventive Mental Health Interventions for Refugee Children and Adolescents in High-Income Settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-132. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5 .

7. Pottie K et al. Do First Generation Immigrant Adolescents Face Higher Rates of Bullying, Violence and Suicidal Behaviours Than Do Third Generation and Native Born? J Immigr Minor Health. 2015 Oct;17(5):1557-1566. doi: 10.1007/s10903-014-0108-6.

8. Smokowski PR, Bacallao ML. Acculturation and Aggression in Latino Adolescents: A Structural Model Focusing on Cultural Risk Factors and Assets. J Abnorm Child Psychol. 2006 Oct;34(5):659-673. doi: 10.1007/s10802-006-9049-4 .

9. Gadermann AM et al. Prevalence of Mental Health Disorders Among Immigrant, Refugee, and Nonimmigrant Children and Youth in British Columbia, Canada. JAMA Netw Open. 2022;5(2):e2144934. doi: 10.1001/jamanetworkopen.2021.44934 .

In my previous article, “Mental Health Characteristics of Refugee Children,” we learned that in recent decades, refugeeism has become a growing problem that disproportionately affects children. Refugee children and their families experience a variety of traumas, often sustained across years and even decades, because of armed conflict, persecution, social upheavals, or environmental disasters. Refugees are at greater risks for PTSD and affective and psychotic disorders presumably due to increased traumatic life events before, during, and after migration. I used my own experience as a child refugee from Vietnam to elucidate the stressors evident in various phases of forced displacement.¹

Risk Factors and Protective Factors

To a certain extent, the experiences of refugees are universal. All refugees experience some sort of humanitarian crisis that forces an emergent escape from their home across international borders to a new resettlement area. It is important to note that internally displaced people do not meet the United Nations’ (UN) official designation of refugee status; however, some agencies use a broader definition where they are designated as such.^2,3 We will refer to those not meeting the UN criteria as displaced people, while refugees are those that do meet the UN criteria. Dr. Mina Fazel’s 2012 systematic review in The Lancet of mental health risk factors and protective factors for displaced and refugee children is the most comprehensive of its kind.⁴ It will be summarized in this section with some relevant personal reflection.

In terms of risk factors, external displacement likely results in additional stress and trauma, presumably from the lack of assess to one’s culture and the host country’s language. Understandably, this makes rebuilding of one’s life more difficult. Several studies show that displaced/refugee children experience more difficulty with psychosocial adaptation than non-displaced children. Violence, directly experienced or indirectly feared, both to the child and their parents, was the strongest predictor of mental health problems and withdrawn behavior. Children who were separated from their parents clearly fared worst in their mental health than those who did not, which is not surprising given the nature of their dependence on caregivers for protection and guidance. During resettlement, experienced or perceived discrimination from the host country was also a risk factor, as well as instability in housing and a drawn-out resettlement process. Female sex was a risk factor mainly for emotional problems. Poor financial support post-migration is associated with depression, but it is unclear whether pre-migration financial status was protective. From my own experience, it is likely not, given that once one becomes a refugee one does not have access to one’s wealth, except that which could be hidden on one’s body. Another risk factor was also if one’s parent had psychiatric problems or was single. Due to the migration, my mother was separated permanently from her husband, which caused her extraordinary isolation and loneliness, something that was palpably felt by myself as I grew up.

In terms of protective factors, family cohesion and cultural continuity appear critical. For myself, not only would I not have survived without my mother and aunt, but they constantly protected me from the harsh realities. My mother would distract me with seemingly trivial goals once we got to America, like finally tasting a hamburger, or talking about school and being reunited with my uncle. This is in line with another finding — that children have better mental health outcomes when their parents do not talk about their hardships. Once my family was resettled with my uncle and his family, they played a critical role in smoothing our transition, not only by providing us with housing, but also cultural knowledge. Cultural havens can restore some of the social position and way of life that refugees lose when they are able to reconnect with a society that recognizes their previous achievements and status. Finally, religion also seemed to be a protective factor.
 

Mental Health Interventions

In 2018, Dr. Fazel identified mental health interventions for refugee children in a narrative review.⁵ She acknowledged that these conclusions are limited by the paucity of preventive mental health research in children in general, as well as the mobile nature and complex cultural differences of refugee children. This is exacerbated by the small evidence base. Given that, she makes these recommendations for varying levels of interventions: individual, group, family, living circumstances, social interactions, and school.

On an individual level, effective interventions developed to address PTSD include narrative exposure therapy, trauma-focused cognitive behavior therapy, and eye-movement and desensitization therapy. Group-based interventions for trauma, for example school-based PTSD intervention programs in conflicted areas, have either been shown to not be effective, or only effective for reducing depression. The mental health of unaccompanied children separated from family fare better when placed in foster care, rather than other types of social support. This is further enhanced if the foster family is the same ethnicity.

On a family level, improvements in parenting style and parental mental health, family engagement with local culture and structures, and family-based mental health interventions all positively impact refugee children. Not surprisingly, refugee parents have a greater prevalence of mental health conditions. Several studies on refugeeism point out a greater occurrence of intimate partner violence (that negatively affects children) as well has harsher discipline and maltreatment of refugee children. Thus, mental health treatment for parents also directly improves the well-being of their children. Teaching parenting skills to mitigate the violent effect of their PTSD symptoms, as well as parenting classes that teach gentler styles, have been shown to reduce harsh parenting and mitigate aggressive behaviors in these children. These improvements are enhanced when these classes are taught by other refugees themselves.

School is key for helping refugee children since it is a site where they can access language proficiency, successful acculturation, and medical and mental health services. Several studies have identified the positive effects of better parental engagement with school, resulting in improved academic performance and reduced levels of depressive and PTSD symptoms. A review of learning problems in refugee children identified several factors for success. These include high academic and life ambition, parental involvement in education, accurate educational assessment and grade placement, teacher understanding of linguistic and cultural heritage, culturally appropriate school transition, supportive peer relationships, and successful acculturation. School certainly was key for my acculturation and language proficiency. When I arrived at 6 years old I was selectively mute for my year in first grade, namely because I did not know how to speak English and because I did not share the culture. However, my teacher correctly identified my deficiency and chose to place me in kindergarten, which allowed me the time to gain English proficiency. Though I was always the oldest one in class, that remediation was key in allowing eventual success in school leading up to my admission to UC Berkeley.
 

Summary

In recent decades, refugeeism has become a growing problem that disproportionately affects children leading to traumas sustained across years and even decades, and greater risks for PTSD, as well as affective and psychotic disorders. Risk factors include the experience of violence, the separation from family, female gender, discrimination in the host country, unstable housing, and a drawn-out resettlement process. Protective factors consist of family cohesion, cultural continuity, support at schools, being protected from the truth of their harsh reality, stable housing, language acquisition, and quick resettlement. From these factors, effective mental interventions have been found to be the promotion of these protective factors as well as support for parental mental health and parenting skills, better parental engagement at school, and schools that correctly identify and address these children’s educational needs.

Dr. Nguyen is a second-year resident at UCSF Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously.*

References

1. Nguyen D. Mental Health Characteristics of Refugee Children. Pediatric News. 2023 Nov. 14. https://www.mdedge.com/pediatrics/article/266518/mental-health/mental-health-characteristics-refugee-children.

2. Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. The Refugee Concept Under International Law. Global Compact for Safe, Orderly and Regular Migration. 2018 March 8. https://www.unhcr.org/sites/default/files/legacy-pdf/5aa290937.pdf.

3. Winer JP. Mental Health Practice with Immigrant and Refugee Youth [Power Point Slides]. Michigan Medicine. 2021 June 24. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICkg4132SQY

4. Fazel M et al. Mental Health of Displaced and Refugee Children Resettled in High-Income Countries: Risk and Protective Factors. Lancet. 2012 Jan 21;379(9812):266-282. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(11)60051-2.

5. Fazel M, Betancourt TS. Preventive Mental Health Interventions for Refugee Children and Adolescents in High-Income Settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-132. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5.

*Correction, 2/27: An earlier version of this article misstated Dr. Nguyen's affiliation.

In my previous article, “Mental Health Characteristics of Refugee Children,” we learned that in recent decades, refugeeism has become a growing problem that disproportionately affects children. Refugee children and their families experience a variety of traumas, often sustained across years and even decades, because of armed conflict, persecution, social upheavals, or environmental disasters. Refugees are at greater risks for PTSD and affective and psychotic disorders presumably due to increased traumatic life events before, during, and after migration. I used my own experience as a child refugee from Vietnam to elucidate the stressors evident in various phases of forced displacement.¹

Risk Factors and Protective Factors

To a certain extent, the experiences of refugees are universal. All refugees experience some sort of humanitarian crisis that forces an emergent escape from their home across international borders to a new resettlement area. It is important to note that internally displaced people do not meet the United Nations’ (UN) official designation of refugee status; however, some agencies use a broader definition where they are designated as such.^2,3 We will refer to those not meeting the UN criteria as displaced people, while refugees are those that do meet the UN criteria. Dr. Mina Fazel’s 2012 systematic review in The Lancet of mental health risk factors and protective factors for displaced and refugee children is the most comprehensive of its kind.⁴ It will be summarized in this section with some relevant personal reflection.

In terms of risk factors, external displacement likely results in additional stress and trauma, presumably from the lack of assess to one’s culture and the host country’s language. Understandably, this makes rebuilding of one’s life more difficult. Several studies show that displaced/refugee children experience more difficulty with psychosocial adaptation than non-displaced children. Violence, directly experienced or indirectly feared, both to the child and their parents, was the strongest predictor of mental health problems and withdrawn behavior. Children who were separated from their parents clearly fared worst in their mental health than those who did not, which is not surprising given the nature of their dependence on caregivers for protection and guidance. During resettlement, experienced or perceived discrimination from the host country was also a risk factor, as well as instability in housing and a drawn-out resettlement process. Female sex was a risk factor mainly for emotional problems. Poor financial support post-migration is associated with depression, but it is unclear whether pre-migration financial status was protective. From my own experience, it is likely not, given that once one becomes a refugee one does not have access to one’s wealth, except that which could be hidden on one’s body. Another risk factor was also if one’s parent had psychiatric problems or was single. Due to the migration, my mother was separated permanently from her husband, which caused her extraordinary isolation and loneliness, something that was palpably felt by myself as I grew up.

In terms of protective factors, family cohesion and cultural continuity appear critical. For myself, not only would I not have survived without my mother and aunt, but they constantly protected me from the harsh realities. My mother would distract me with seemingly trivial goals once we got to America, like finally tasting a hamburger, or talking about school and being reunited with my uncle. This is in line with another finding — that children have better mental health outcomes when their parents do not talk about their hardships. Once my family was resettled with my uncle and his family, they played a critical role in smoothing our transition, not only by providing us with housing, but also cultural knowledge. Cultural havens can restore some of the social position and way of life that refugees lose when they are able to reconnect with a society that recognizes their previous achievements and status. Finally, religion also seemed to be a protective factor.
 

Mental Health Interventions

In 2018, Dr. Fazel identified mental health interventions for refugee children in a narrative review.⁵ She acknowledged that these conclusions are limited by the paucity of preventive mental health research in children in general, as well as the mobile nature and complex cultural differences of refugee children. This is exacerbated by the small evidence base. Given that, she makes these recommendations for varying levels of interventions: individual, group, family, living circumstances, social interactions, and school.

On an individual level, effective interventions developed to address PTSD include narrative exposure therapy, trauma-focused cognitive behavior therapy, and eye-movement and desensitization therapy. Group-based interventions for trauma, for example school-based PTSD intervention programs in conflicted areas, have either been shown to not be effective, or only effective for reducing depression. The mental health of unaccompanied children separated from family fare better when placed in foster care, rather than other types of social support. This is further enhanced if the foster family is the same ethnicity.

On a family level, improvements in parenting style and parental mental health, family engagement with local culture and structures, and family-based mental health interventions all positively impact refugee children. Not surprisingly, refugee parents have a greater prevalence of mental health conditions. Several studies on refugeeism point out a greater occurrence of intimate partner violence (that negatively affects children) as well has harsher discipline and maltreatment of refugee children. Thus, mental health treatment for parents also directly improves the well-being of their children. Teaching parenting skills to mitigate the violent effect of their PTSD symptoms, as well as parenting classes that teach gentler styles, have been shown to reduce harsh parenting and mitigate aggressive behaviors in these children. These improvements are enhanced when these classes are taught by other refugees themselves.

School is key for helping refugee children since it is a site where they can access language proficiency, successful acculturation, and medical and mental health services. Several studies have identified the positive effects of better parental engagement with school, resulting in improved academic performance and reduced levels of depressive and PTSD symptoms. A review of learning problems in refugee children identified several factors for success. These include high academic and life ambition, parental involvement in education, accurate educational assessment and grade placement, teacher understanding of linguistic and cultural heritage, culturally appropriate school transition, supportive peer relationships, and successful acculturation. School certainly was key for my acculturation and language proficiency. When I arrived at 6 years old I was selectively mute for my year in first grade, namely because I did not know how to speak English and because I did not share the culture. However, my teacher correctly identified my deficiency and chose to place me in kindergarten, which allowed me the time to gain English proficiency. Though I was always the oldest one in class, that remediation was key in allowing eventual success in school leading up to my admission to UC Berkeley.
 

Summary

In recent decades, refugeeism has become a growing problem that disproportionately affects children leading to traumas sustained across years and even decades, and greater risks for PTSD, as well as affective and psychotic disorders. Risk factors include the experience of violence, the separation from family, female gender, discrimination in the host country, unstable housing, and a drawn-out resettlement process. Protective factors consist of family cohesion, cultural continuity, support at schools, being protected from the truth of their harsh reality, stable housing, language acquisition, and quick resettlement. From these factors, effective mental interventions have been found to be the promotion of these protective factors as well as support for parental mental health and parenting skills, better parental engagement at school, and schools that correctly identify and address these children’s educational needs.

Dr. Nguyen is a second-year resident at UCSF Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously.*

References

1. Nguyen D. Mental Health Characteristics of Refugee Children. Pediatric News. 2023 Nov. 14. https://www.mdedge.com/pediatrics/article/266518/mental-health/mental-health-characteristics-refugee-children.

2. Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. The Refugee Concept Under International Law. Global Compact for Safe, Orderly and Regular Migration. 2018 March 8. https://www.unhcr.org/sites/default/files/legacy-pdf/5aa290937.pdf.

3. Winer JP. Mental Health Practice with Immigrant and Refugee Youth [Power Point Slides]. Michigan Medicine. 2021 June 24. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICkg4132SQY

4. Fazel M et al. Mental Health of Displaced and Refugee Children Resettled in High-Income Countries: Risk and Protective Factors. Lancet. 2012 Jan 21;379(9812):266-282. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(11)60051-2.

5. Fazel M, Betancourt TS. Preventive Mental Health Interventions for Refugee Children and Adolescents in High-Income Settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-132. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5.

*Correction, 2/27: An earlier version of this article misstated Dr. Nguyen's affiliation.

In my previous article, “Mental Health Characteristics of Refugee Children,” we learned that in recent decades, refugeeism has become a growing problem that disproportionately affects children. Refugee children and their families experience a variety of traumas, often sustained across years and even decades, because of armed conflict, persecution, social upheavals, or environmental disasters. Refugees are at greater risks for PTSD and affective and psychotic disorders presumably due to increased traumatic life events before, during, and after migration. I used my own experience as a child refugee from Vietnam to elucidate the stressors evident in various phases of forced displacement.¹

Risk Factors and Protective Factors

To a certain extent, the experiences of refugees are universal. All refugees experience some sort of humanitarian crisis that forces an emergent escape from their home across international borders to a new resettlement area. It is important to note that internally displaced people do not meet the United Nations’ (UN) official designation of refugee status; however, some agencies use a broader definition where they are designated as such.^2,3 We will refer to those not meeting the UN criteria as displaced people, while refugees are those that do meet the UN criteria. Dr. Mina Fazel’s 2012 systematic review in The Lancet of mental health risk factors and protective factors for displaced and refugee children is the most comprehensive of its kind.⁴ It will be summarized in this section with some relevant personal reflection.

In terms of risk factors, external displacement likely results in additional stress and trauma, presumably from the lack of assess to one’s culture and the host country’s language. Understandably, this makes rebuilding of one’s life more difficult. Several studies show that displaced/refugee children experience more difficulty with psychosocial adaptation than non-displaced children. Violence, directly experienced or indirectly feared, both to the child and their parents, was the strongest predictor of mental health problems and withdrawn behavior. Children who were separated from their parents clearly fared worst in their mental health than those who did not, which is not surprising given the nature of their dependence on caregivers for protection and guidance. During resettlement, experienced or perceived discrimination from the host country was also a risk factor, as well as instability in housing and a drawn-out resettlement process. Female sex was a risk factor mainly for emotional problems. Poor financial support post-migration is associated with depression, but it is unclear whether pre-migration financial status was protective. From my own experience, it is likely not, given that once one becomes a refugee one does not have access to one’s wealth, except that which could be hidden on one’s body. Another risk factor was also if one’s parent had psychiatric problems or was single. Due to the migration, my mother was separated permanently from her husband, which caused her extraordinary isolation and loneliness, something that was palpably felt by myself as I grew up.

In terms of protective factors, family cohesion and cultural continuity appear critical. For myself, not only would I not have survived without my mother and aunt, but they constantly protected me from the harsh realities. My mother would distract me with seemingly trivial goals once we got to America, like finally tasting a hamburger, or talking about school and being reunited with my uncle. This is in line with another finding — that children have better mental health outcomes when their parents do not talk about their hardships. Once my family was resettled with my uncle and his family, they played a critical role in smoothing our transition, not only by providing us with housing, but also cultural knowledge. Cultural havens can restore some of the social position and way of life that refugees lose when they are able to reconnect with a society that recognizes their previous achievements and status. Finally, religion also seemed to be a protective factor.
 

Mental Health Interventions

In 2018, Dr. Fazel identified mental health interventions for refugee children in a narrative review.⁵ She acknowledged that these conclusions are limited by the paucity of preventive mental health research in children in general, as well as the mobile nature and complex cultural differences of refugee children. This is exacerbated by the small evidence base. Given that, she makes these recommendations for varying levels of interventions: individual, group, family, living circumstances, social interactions, and school.

On an individual level, effective interventions developed to address PTSD include narrative exposure therapy, trauma-focused cognitive behavior therapy, and eye-movement and desensitization therapy. Group-based interventions for trauma, for example school-based PTSD intervention programs in conflicted areas, have either been shown to not be effective, or only effective for reducing depression. The mental health of unaccompanied children separated from family fare better when placed in foster care, rather than other types of social support. This is further enhanced if the foster family is the same ethnicity.

On a family level, improvements in parenting style and parental mental health, family engagement with local culture and structures, and family-based mental health interventions all positively impact refugee children. Not surprisingly, refugee parents have a greater prevalence of mental health conditions. Several studies on refugeeism point out a greater occurrence of intimate partner violence (that negatively affects children) as well has harsher discipline and maltreatment of refugee children. Thus, mental health treatment for parents also directly improves the well-being of their children. Teaching parenting skills to mitigate the violent effect of their PTSD symptoms, as well as parenting classes that teach gentler styles, have been shown to reduce harsh parenting and mitigate aggressive behaviors in these children. These improvements are enhanced when these classes are taught by other refugees themselves.

School is key for helping refugee children since it is a site where they can access language proficiency, successful acculturation, and medical and mental health services. Several studies have identified the positive effects of better parental engagement with school, resulting in improved academic performance and reduced levels of depressive and PTSD symptoms. A review of learning problems in refugee children identified several factors for success. These include high academic and life ambition, parental involvement in education, accurate educational assessment and grade placement, teacher understanding of linguistic and cultural heritage, culturally appropriate school transition, supportive peer relationships, and successful acculturation. School certainly was key for my acculturation and language proficiency. When I arrived at 6 years old I was selectively mute for my year in first grade, namely because I did not know how to speak English and because I did not share the culture. However, my teacher correctly identified my deficiency and chose to place me in kindergarten, which allowed me the time to gain English proficiency. Though I was always the oldest one in class, that remediation was key in allowing eventual success in school leading up to my admission to UC Berkeley.
 

Summary

In recent decades, refugeeism has become a growing problem that disproportionately affects children leading to traumas sustained across years and even decades, and greater risks for PTSD, as well as affective and psychotic disorders. Risk factors include the experience of violence, the separation from family, female gender, discrimination in the host country, unstable housing, and a drawn-out resettlement process. Protective factors consist of family cohesion, cultural continuity, support at schools, being protected from the truth of their harsh reality, stable housing, language acquisition, and quick resettlement. From these factors, effective mental interventions have been found to be the promotion of these protective factors as well as support for parental mental health and parenting skills, better parental engagement at school, and schools that correctly identify and address these children’s educational needs.

Dr. Nguyen is a second-year resident at UCSF Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously.*

References

1. Nguyen D. Mental Health Characteristics of Refugee Children. Pediatric News. 2023 Nov. 14. https://www.mdedge.com/pediatrics/article/266518/mental-health/mental-health-characteristics-refugee-children.

2. Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. The Refugee Concept Under International Law. Global Compact for Safe, Orderly and Regular Migration. 2018 March 8. https://www.unhcr.org/sites/default/files/legacy-pdf/5aa290937.pdf.

3. Winer JP. Mental Health Practice with Immigrant and Refugee Youth [Power Point Slides]. Michigan Medicine. 2021 June 24. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICkg4132SQY

4. Fazel M et al. Mental Health of Displaced and Refugee Children Resettled in High-Income Countries: Risk and Protective Factors. Lancet. 2012 Jan 21;379(9812):266-282. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(11)60051-2.

5. Fazel M, Betancourt TS. Preventive Mental Health Interventions for Refugee Children and Adolescents in High-Income Settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-132. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5.

*Correction, 2/27: An earlier version of this article misstated Dr. Nguyen's affiliation.

Since 1983, when I was a child and fled as a boat refugee from Vietnam with my mother, the international plight of displaced people has only worsened. From 1997 to 2022, the number of forcibly displaced people has more than tripled, growing from 34 million to more than 108 million.¹

Displaced people are designated as refugees only when they cross international borders and meet the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees’ (UNHCR) definition as “persons outside their countries of origin who are in need of international protection because of a serious threat to their life, physical integrity, or freedom in their country of origin as a result of persecution, armed conflict, violence, or serious public disorder.”² There is a separate mandate by the United Nations for the aid of Palestinian refugees under the United Nations General Assembly’s United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA).³ Of the displaced in 2022, more than 36 million were recognized as refugees under UNHCR and UNRWA mandates.¹ Of these, almost 50% were children, at 17.5 million.⁴ To make matters worse, worldwide children represent less than one-third of the population.⁴ Since 2022, the increase in refugeeism is mostly driven by Ukraine and Syria, though also significantly Afghanistan, Venezuela, Sudan, Myanmar, Congo, Somalia, and Central African Republic.⁴ Refugeeism is a growing problem that disproportionately impacts children through sheer number, and one suspects, given their greater overall vulnerabilities compared with adults, physical and mental health consequences.
 

Traumas of refugees compared with non-refugee immigrants

In terms of mental health, refugees are distinct from non-refugee immigrants in that they likely experience more severe psychosocial adversities from greater poverty, greater risk of family separation, and uncertainty of the asylum process.^5-8

From my own experience, this stems from the urgent nature of the refugee’s displacement, where they are often fleeing an immediate danger. My family had fled persecution from Communist forces and the social economic collapse that rendered Vietnam, for a time, one of the poorest in the world.⁹ Or, as my mother observed, “We had to leave because even doctors were starving.”

Refugees often have little preparation, have little legal protection since they are often criminalized, and are forced to endure dangerous conditions where they are vulnerable to smugglers and criminals who exploit their unprotected status. Once they arrive in their new country, they often do not have other family as social supports or resources. They themselves become the anchor for future legal and orderly immigration of their remaining family, given that they can extend their refugee status to those left behind.¹⁰ These non-refugee immigrants, unlike their refugee counterparts, are often flown to their new homes with more preparation, protecting them from dangerous conditions, and have the benefit of family who provide them with resources. As such, refugees tend to experience more traumatic life events than non-refugee immigrants. This was true in my family where those of us who initially escaped became the anchors to legally, and more safely, immigrate most of our family in Vietnam. We became their resources, likely making their acclimation smoother.
 

The mental health of refugee children and their caregivers

It is important to understand the stressors affecting the caregivers of children, since effective treatment of their mental health conditions can also benefit the children as well.¹¹ In fact, among the greatest protective factors for refugee children is the presence of an adult caregiver, suggesting that the child’s mental health is dependent on the caregivers.

Those children who are separated show much worse mental health sequalae.¹² As such, an understanding of the caregiver’s stressors is important. For example, when we were escaping Vietnam, my mom would protect me from our hardships by talking about our goals in America, minimizing our dangers by saying that we would be rewarded with things like a hamburger with its seemingly impossible amount of meat. Physically, my mother would always sleep with her arms around me and a knife hidden in order to ward off any attackers at night. When I was starving in the hull of a boat, having not eaten for days, my mother begged for food and gave me what she could get. And post-escape, my family focused on work and applied for aid for shelter and food, while encouraging us to invest in education, likely preventing involvement in criminal activities or gangs. Though overall, my family shielded me from the worst consequences, they also passed on their fears. One of my uncles had been killed by the police when he tried to escape, and so my family passed down a deep suspicion of authorities, whether they were the police or school principals. My mother had vivid memories of Communist re-education camps, which likely gave her a lasting fear that a Communist would find out our identities in America and re-capture us.
 

The mental health risk of refugees

Given that refugees tend to experience greater amounts of traumatic life events and a vast array of stressors sustained across years and even decades before, during, and after migration, it is no wonder they have much higher rates of mental health conditions, most predominantly PTSD and affective disorders.^13,14 They are at particular risk of developing psychoses because they are more likely to experience a range of physical, psychological, and psychosocial problems associated with adversities such as violence, discrimination, economic stress, and social isolation.¹³ For example, the period leading up to my escape consisted of decades of prolonged war: the French-Indochina from 1945 to 1954, then the Vietnam War from 1955 to 1975) as well as the persecution and re-education camps afterward. What my family had to endure created a period of fear and loss into which I was born into in 1976. That year, my family had lost its fortune due to the Communist government seizing of our home and business, plunging us from a comfortable middle- to upper-class life to poverty. There was also widespread fear of systematic rape by the Communist victors. So my family endured great stress and the loss of a way of life leading up to our escape.

For the refugees, the escape itself is often a dangerous journey where, given its emergent nature, they are often exposed to the elements. We know about the current situation in Ukraine and Gaza, where children are fleeing from bombs and bullets. In my situation, we endured weeks of starvation crammed in the hull of boat as we forged through the Indian Ocean to the Philippines. One of my aunts, on a separate trip, perished because her boat had capsized, like so many others. Though impossible to verify, it has been estimated that up to 70% of Vietnamese refugees died during their escape.¹⁵ After the boat, my mother and I still had to brave Malaysian jungles and prisons, and then refugee camps for a year before we reached safety at an American Embassy in the Philippines. After we gained sponsorship to America, the traumas did not abate, but were only replaced by those of culture shock, poverty, and alienation. Taken by themselves, significant traumas exist in each phase of a refugee child’s escape, whether before, during, or after. These traumas are likely compounded since they are continuously layered and sustained across years, even decades. They affect not only the children, but their parents, and sometimes even a whole nation of people.
 

Summary

In recent decades, refugeeism has been a growing problem that disproportionately affects children. Refugee children and their families experience a variety of traumas, often sustained across years and even decades, because of armed conflict, persecution, or social upheavals. It is known that refugees are at greater risk for PTSD and affective and psychotic disorders, presumably due to increased traumatic life events before, during, and after their migration. The writer uses his own experience as a child refugee from Vietnam to elucidate the stressors evident in various phases of forced displacement.

Dr. Nguyen is a second year resident at UCSF Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously.

References

1. UNHCR. Global Trends. Forced displacement in 2016. Geneva, Switzerland: The UN Refugee Agency, 2022. https://www.unhcr.org/global-trends.

2. Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. The refugee concept under international law. Global compact for safe, orderly and regular migration.  https://www.unhcr.org/sites/default/files/legacy-pdf/5aa290937.pdf. Published March 8, 2018.

3. United Nations. (2023, November 11). The Question of Palestine. Un.org. https://www.un.org/unispal/document/un-general-assembly-renews-unrwa-mandate-press-release/

4. UNICEF. (2023, November 11). Child displacement. Data.unicef.org. https://data.unicef.org/topic/child-migration-and-displacement/displacement

5. Kinzie JD. Immigrants and refugees: The psychiatric perspective. Transcult Psychiatry. 2006 Dec;43(4):577-91. doi: 10.1177/1363461506070782.

6. Eaton W and Harrison G. Ethnic disadvantage and schizophrenia. Acta Psychiatr Scand Suppl. 2000:(407):38-43. doi: 10.1034/j.1600-0447.2000.00007.x.

7. Gilliver SC et al. Recent research on the mental health of immigrants to Sweden: a literature review. Eur J Public Health. 2014 Aug:24 Suppl 1:72-9. doi: 10.1093/eurpub/cku101.

8. Rapp MA et al. When local poverty is more important than your income: Mental health in minorities in inner cities. World Psychiatry. 2015 Jun;14(2):249-50. doi: 10.1002/wps.20221.

9. Cima, Ronald, ed. Vietnam: A Country Study. Washington: GPO for the Library of Congress, 1987.

10. United States Citizenship & Immigration Services (2023, November 12). Refugees. Uscis.gov. https://www.uscis.gov/humanitarian/refugees-and-asylum/refugees

11. Fazel M and Betancourt TS. (2018). Preventive mental health interventions for refugee children and adolescents in high-income settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-32. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5.

12. Fazel M et al. Mental health of displaced and refugee children resettled in high-income countries: risk and protective factors. Lancet. 2012 Jan 21;379(9812):266-82. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(11)60051-2.

13. Dapunt J et al. Refugees and psychosis: A review of the literature. Transl Psychiatry. 2017 Jun 13;7(6):e1149. doi: 10.1038/tp.2017.119.

14. Fazel M et al. Prevalence of serious mental disorder in 7,000 refugees resettled in western countries: a systematic review. Lancet. 2005 Apr;365(9467):1309-14. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(05)61027-6.

15. Rummel R. Statistics of Vietnamese Democide, in his Statistics of Democide. 1997. Table 6.1B,lines 730, 749-51.

Since 1983, when I was a child and fled as a boat refugee from Vietnam with my mother, the international plight of displaced people has only worsened. From 1997 to 2022, the number of forcibly displaced people has more than tripled, growing from 34 million to more than 108 million.¹

Displaced people are designated as refugees only when they cross international borders and meet the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees’ (UNHCR) definition as “persons outside their countries of origin who are in need of international protection because of a serious threat to their life, physical integrity, or freedom in their country of origin as a result of persecution, armed conflict, violence, or serious public disorder.”² There is a separate mandate by the United Nations for the aid of Palestinian refugees under the United Nations General Assembly’s United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA).³ Of the displaced in 2022, more than 36 million were recognized as refugees under UNHCR and UNRWA mandates.¹ Of these, almost 50% were children, at 17.5 million.⁴ To make matters worse, worldwide children represent less than one-third of the population.⁴ Since 2022, the increase in refugeeism is mostly driven by Ukraine and Syria, though also significantly Afghanistan, Venezuela, Sudan, Myanmar, Congo, Somalia, and Central African Republic.⁴ Refugeeism is a growing problem that disproportionately impacts children through sheer number, and one suspects, given their greater overall vulnerabilities compared with adults, physical and mental health consequences.
 

Traumas of refugees compared with non-refugee immigrants

In terms of mental health, refugees are distinct from non-refugee immigrants in that they likely experience more severe psychosocial adversities from greater poverty, greater risk of family separation, and uncertainty of the asylum process.^5-8

From my own experience, this stems from the urgent nature of the refugee’s displacement, where they are often fleeing an immediate danger. My family had fled persecution from Communist forces and the social economic collapse that rendered Vietnam, for a time, one of the poorest in the world.⁹ Or, as my mother observed, “We had to leave because even doctors were starving.”

Refugees often have little preparation, have little legal protection since they are often criminalized, and are forced to endure dangerous conditions where they are vulnerable to smugglers and criminals who exploit their unprotected status. Once they arrive in their new country, they often do not have other family as social supports or resources. They themselves become the anchor for future legal and orderly immigration of their remaining family, given that they can extend their refugee status to those left behind.¹⁰ These non-refugee immigrants, unlike their refugee counterparts, are often flown to their new homes with more preparation, protecting them from dangerous conditions, and have the benefit of family who provide them with resources. As such, refugees tend to experience more traumatic life events than non-refugee immigrants. This was true in my family where those of us who initially escaped became the anchors to legally, and more safely, immigrate most of our family in Vietnam. We became their resources, likely making their acclimation smoother.
 

The mental health of refugee children and their caregivers

It is important to understand the stressors affecting the caregivers of children, since effective treatment of their mental health conditions can also benefit the children as well.¹¹ In fact, among the greatest protective factors for refugee children is the presence of an adult caregiver, suggesting that the child’s mental health is dependent on the caregivers.

Those children who are separated show much worse mental health sequalae.¹² As such, an understanding of the caregiver’s stressors is important. For example, when we were escaping Vietnam, my mom would protect me from our hardships by talking about our goals in America, minimizing our dangers by saying that we would be rewarded with things like a hamburger with its seemingly impossible amount of meat. Physically, my mother would always sleep with her arms around me and a knife hidden in order to ward off any attackers at night. When I was starving in the hull of a boat, having not eaten for days, my mother begged for food and gave me what she could get. And post-escape, my family focused on work and applied for aid for shelter and food, while encouraging us to invest in education, likely preventing involvement in criminal activities or gangs. Though overall, my family shielded me from the worst consequences, they also passed on their fears. One of my uncles had been killed by the police when he tried to escape, and so my family passed down a deep suspicion of authorities, whether they were the police or school principals. My mother had vivid memories of Communist re-education camps, which likely gave her a lasting fear that a Communist would find out our identities in America and re-capture us.
 

The mental health risk of refugees

Given that refugees tend to experience greater amounts of traumatic life events and a vast array of stressors sustained across years and even decades before, during, and after migration, it is no wonder they have much higher rates of mental health conditions, most predominantly PTSD and affective disorders.^13,14 They are at particular risk of developing psychoses because they are more likely to experience a range of physical, psychological, and psychosocial problems associated with adversities such as violence, discrimination, economic stress, and social isolation.¹³ For example, the period leading up to my escape consisted of decades of prolonged war: the French-Indochina from 1945 to 1954, then the Vietnam War from 1955 to 1975) as well as the persecution and re-education camps afterward. What my family had to endure created a period of fear and loss into which I was born into in 1976. That year, my family had lost its fortune due to the Communist government seizing of our home and business, plunging us from a comfortable middle- to upper-class life to poverty. There was also widespread fear of systematic rape by the Communist victors. So my family endured great stress and the loss of a way of life leading up to our escape.

For the refugees, the escape itself is often a dangerous journey where, given its emergent nature, they are often exposed to the elements. We know about the current situation in Ukraine and Gaza, where children are fleeing from bombs and bullets. In my situation, we endured weeks of starvation crammed in the hull of boat as we forged through the Indian Ocean to the Philippines. One of my aunts, on a separate trip, perished because her boat had capsized, like so many others. Though impossible to verify, it has been estimated that up to 70% of Vietnamese refugees died during their escape.¹⁵ After the boat, my mother and I still had to brave Malaysian jungles and prisons, and then refugee camps for a year before we reached safety at an American Embassy in the Philippines. After we gained sponsorship to America, the traumas did not abate, but were only replaced by those of culture shock, poverty, and alienation. Taken by themselves, significant traumas exist in each phase of a refugee child’s escape, whether before, during, or after. These traumas are likely compounded since they are continuously layered and sustained across years, even decades. They affect not only the children, but their parents, and sometimes even a whole nation of people.
 

Summary

In recent decades, refugeeism has been a growing problem that disproportionately affects children. Refugee children and their families experience a variety of traumas, often sustained across years and even decades, because of armed conflict, persecution, or social upheavals. It is known that refugees are at greater risk for PTSD and affective and psychotic disorders, presumably due to increased traumatic life events before, during, and after their migration. The writer uses his own experience as a child refugee from Vietnam to elucidate the stressors evident in various phases of forced displacement.

Dr. Nguyen is a second year resident at UCSF Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously.

References

1. UNHCR. Global Trends. Forced displacement in 2016. Geneva, Switzerland: The UN Refugee Agency, 2022. https://www.unhcr.org/global-trends.

2. Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. The refugee concept under international law. Global compact for safe, orderly and regular migration.  https://www.unhcr.org/sites/default/files/legacy-pdf/5aa290937.pdf. Published March 8, 2018.

3. United Nations. (2023, November 11). The Question of Palestine. Un.org. https://www.un.org/unispal/document/un-general-assembly-renews-unrwa-mandate-press-release/

4. UNICEF. (2023, November 11). Child displacement. Data.unicef.org. https://data.unicef.org/topic/child-migration-and-displacement/displacement

5. Kinzie JD. Immigrants and refugees: The psychiatric perspective. Transcult Psychiatry. 2006 Dec;43(4):577-91. doi: 10.1177/1363461506070782.

6. Eaton W and Harrison G. Ethnic disadvantage and schizophrenia. Acta Psychiatr Scand Suppl. 2000:(407):38-43. doi: 10.1034/j.1600-0447.2000.00007.x.

7. Gilliver SC et al. Recent research on the mental health of immigrants to Sweden: a literature review. Eur J Public Health. 2014 Aug:24 Suppl 1:72-9. doi: 10.1093/eurpub/cku101.

8. Rapp MA et al. When local poverty is more important than your income: Mental health in minorities in inner cities. World Psychiatry. 2015 Jun;14(2):249-50. doi: 10.1002/wps.20221.

9. Cima, Ronald, ed. Vietnam: A Country Study. Washington: GPO for the Library of Congress, 1987.

10. United States Citizenship & Immigration Services (2023, November 12). Refugees. Uscis.gov. https://www.uscis.gov/humanitarian/refugees-and-asylum/refugees

11. Fazel M and Betancourt TS. (2018). Preventive mental health interventions for refugee children and adolescents in high-income settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-32. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5.

12. Fazel M et al. Mental health of displaced and refugee children resettled in high-income countries: risk and protective factors. Lancet. 2012 Jan 21;379(9812):266-82. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(11)60051-2.

13. Dapunt J et al. Refugees and psychosis: A review of the literature. Transl Psychiatry. 2017 Jun 13;7(6):e1149. doi: 10.1038/tp.2017.119.

14. Fazel M et al. Prevalence of serious mental disorder in 7,000 refugees resettled in western countries: a systematic review. Lancet. 2005 Apr;365(9467):1309-14. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(05)61027-6.

15. Rummel R. Statistics of Vietnamese Democide, in his Statistics of Democide. 1997. Table 6.1B,lines 730, 749-51.

Since 1983, when I was a child and fled as a boat refugee from Vietnam with my mother, the international plight of displaced people has only worsened. From 1997 to 2022, the number of forcibly displaced people has more than tripled, growing from 34 million to more than 108 million.¹

Displaced people are designated as refugees only when they cross international borders and meet the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees’ (UNHCR) definition as “persons outside their countries of origin who are in need of international protection because of a serious threat to their life, physical integrity, or freedom in their country of origin as a result of persecution, armed conflict, violence, or serious public disorder.”² There is a separate mandate by the United Nations for the aid of Palestinian refugees under the United Nations General Assembly’s United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA).³ Of the displaced in 2022, more than 36 million were recognized as refugees under UNHCR and UNRWA mandates.¹ Of these, almost 50% were children, at 17.5 million.⁴ To make matters worse, worldwide children represent less than one-third of the population.⁴ Since 2022, the increase in refugeeism is mostly driven by Ukraine and Syria, though also significantly Afghanistan, Venezuela, Sudan, Myanmar, Congo, Somalia, and Central African Republic.⁴ Refugeeism is a growing problem that disproportionately impacts children through sheer number, and one suspects, given their greater overall vulnerabilities compared with adults, physical and mental health consequences.
 

Traumas of refugees compared with non-refugee immigrants

In terms of mental health, refugees are distinct from non-refugee immigrants in that they likely experience more severe psychosocial adversities from greater poverty, greater risk of family separation, and uncertainty of the asylum process.^5-8

From my own experience, this stems from the urgent nature of the refugee’s displacement, where they are often fleeing an immediate danger. My family had fled persecution from Communist forces and the social economic collapse that rendered Vietnam, for a time, one of the poorest in the world.⁹ Or, as my mother observed, “We had to leave because even doctors were starving.”

Refugees often have little preparation, have little legal protection since they are often criminalized, and are forced to endure dangerous conditions where they are vulnerable to smugglers and criminals who exploit their unprotected status. Once they arrive in their new country, they often do not have other family as social supports or resources. They themselves become the anchor for future legal and orderly immigration of their remaining family, given that they can extend their refugee status to those left behind.¹⁰ These non-refugee immigrants, unlike their refugee counterparts, are often flown to their new homes with more preparation, protecting them from dangerous conditions, and have the benefit of family who provide them with resources. As such, refugees tend to experience more traumatic life events than non-refugee immigrants. This was true in my family where those of us who initially escaped became the anchors to legally, and more safely, immigrate most of our family in Vietnam. We became their resources, likely making their acclimation smoother.
 

The mental health of refugee children and their caregivers

It is important to understand the stressors affecting the caregivers of children, since effective treatment of their mental health conditions can also benefit the children as well.¹¹ In fact, among the greatest protective factors for refugee children is the presence of an adult caregiver, suggesting that the child’s mental health is dependent on the caregivers.

Those children who are separated show much worse mental health sequalae.¹² As such, an understanding of the caregiver’s stressors is important. For example, when we were escaping Vietnam, my mom would protect me from our hardships by talking about our goals in America, minimizing our dangers by saying that we would be rewarded with things like a hamburger with its seemingly impossible amount of meat. Physically, my mother would always sleep with her arms around me and a knife hidden in order to ward off any attackers at night. When I was starving in the hull of a boat, having not eaten for days, my mother begged for food and gave me what she could get. And post-escape, my family focused on work and applied for aid for shelter and food, while encouraging us to invest in education, likely preventing involvement in criminal activities or gangs. Though overall, my family shielded me from the worst consequences, they also passed on their fears. One of my uncles had been killed by the police when he tried to escape, and so my family passed down a deep suspicion of authorities, whether they were the police or school principals. My mother had vivid memories of Communist re-education camps, which likely gave her a lasting fear that a Communist would find out our identities in America and re-capture us.
 

The mental health risk of refugees

Given that refugees tend to experience greater amounts of traumatic life events and a vast array of stressors sustained across years and even decades before, during, and after migration, it is no wonder they have much higher rates of mental health conditions, most predominantly PTSD and affective disorders.^13,14 They are at particular risk of developing psychoses because they are more likely to experience a range of physical, psychological, and psychosocial problems associated with adversities such as violence, discrimination, economic stress, and social isolation.¹³ For example, the period leading up to my escape consisted of decades of prolonged war: the French-Indochina from 1945 to 1954, then the Vietnam War from 1955 to 1975) as well as the persecution and re-education camps afterward. What my family had to endure created a period of fear and loss into which I was born into in 1976. That year, my family had lost its fortune due to the Communist government seizing of our home and business, plunging us from a comfortable middle- to upper-class life to poverty. There was also widespread fear of systematic rape by the Communist victors. So my family endured great stress and the loss of a way of life leading up to our escape.

For the refugees, the escape itself is often a dangerous journey where, given its emergent nature, they are often exposed to the elements. We know about the current situation in Ukraine and Gaza, where children are fleeing from bombs and bullets. In my situation, we endured weeks of starvation crammed in the hull of boat as we forged through the Indian Ocean to the Philippines. One of my aunts, on a separate trip, perished because her boat had capsized, like so many others. Though impossible to verify, it has been estimated that up to 70% of Vietnamese refugees died during their escape.¹⁵ After the boat, my mother and I still had to brave Malaysian jungles and prisons, and then refugee camps for a year before we reached safety at an American Embassy in the Philippines. After we gained sponsorship to America, the traumas did not abate, but were only replaced by those of culture shock, poverty, and alienation. Taken by themselves, significant traumas exist in each phase of a refugee child’s escape, whether before, during, or after. These traumas are likely compounded since they are continuously layered and sustained across years, even decades. They affect not only the children, but their parents, and sometimes even a whole nation of people.
 

Summary

In recent decades, refugeeism has been a growing problem that disproportionately affects children. Refugee children and their families experience a variety of traumas, often sustained across years and even decades, because of armed conflict, persecution, or social upheavals. It is known that refugees are at greater risk for PTSD and affective and psychotic disorders, presumably due to increased traumatic life events before, during, and after their migration. The writer uses his own experience as a child refugee from Vietnam to elucidate the stressors evident in various phases of forced displacement.

Dr. Nguyen is a second year resident at UCSF Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously.

References

1. UNHCR. Global Trends. Forced displacement in 2016. Geneva, Switzerland: The UN Refugee Agency, 2022. https://www.unhcr.org/global-trends.

2. Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. The refugee concept under international law. Global compact for safe, orderly and regular migration.  https://www.unhcr.org/sites/default/files/legacy-pdf/5aa290937.pdf. Published March 8, 2018.

3. United Nations. (2023, November 11). The Question of Palestine. Un.org. https://www.un.org/unispal/document/un-general-assembly-renews-unrwa-mandate-press-release/

4. UNICEF. (2023, November 11). Child displacement. Data.unicef.org. https://data.unicef.org/topic/child-migration-and-displacement/displacement

5. Kinzie JD. Immigrants and refugees: The psychiatric perspective. Transcult Psychiatry. 2006 Dec;43(4):577-91. doi: 10.1177/1363461506070782.

6. Eaton W and Harrison G. Ethnic disadvantage and schizophrenia. Acta Psychiatr Scand Suppl. 2000:(407):38-43. doi: 10.1034/j.1600-0447.2000.00007.x.

7. Gilliver SC et al. Recent research on the mental health of immigrants to Sweden: a literature review. Eur J Public Health. 2014 Aug:24 Suppl 1:72-9. doi: 10.1093/eurpub/cku101.

8. Rapp MA et al. When local poverty is more important than your income: Mental health in minorities in inner cities. World Psychiatry. 2015 Jun;14(2):249-50. doi: 10.1002/wps.20221.

9. Cima, Ronald, ed. Vietnam: A Country Study. Washington: GPO for the Library of Congress, 1987.

10. United States Citizenship & Immigration Services (2023, November 12). Refugees. Uscis.gov. https://www.uscis.gov/humanitarian/refugees-and-asylum/refugees

11. Fazel M and Betancourt TS. (2018). Preventive mental health interventions for refugee children and adolescents in high-income settings. Lancet Child Adolesc Health. 2018 Feb;2(2):121-32. doi: 10.1016/S2352-4642(17)30147-5.

12. Fazel M et al. Mental health of displaced and refugee children resettled in high-income countries: risk and protective factors. Lancet. 2012 Jan 21;379(9812):266-82. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(11)60051-2.

13. Dapunt J et al. Refugees and psychosis: A review of the literature. Transl Psychiatry. 2017 Jun 13;7(6):e1149. doi: 10.1038/tp.2017.119.

14. Fazel M et al. Prevalence of serious mental disorder in 7,000 refugees resettled in western countries: a systematic review. Lancet. 2005 Apr;365(9467):1309-14. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(05)61027-6.

15. Rummel R. Statistics of Vietnamese Democide, in his Statistics of Democide. 1997. Table 6.1B,lines 730, 749-51.

I am a psychiatrist now but had another life teaching English in public high school for 17 years. My teaching life, in which I was an openly gay teacher, spanned 2001-2018 and was divided between two urban California schools – in Berkeley and San Leandro. I came out by responding honestly to student questions about whether I had a girlfriend, and what I did over the weekend. At Berkeley High my openness wasn’t an issue at all. The school had a vibrant Gay Straight Alliance/GSA for years, there were many openly gay staff and many openly gay students. No students felt the need to come out to me in search of a gay mentor.

Two years later, I began teaching in San Leandro, 20 miles away, and it was a lesson in how even the San Francisco Bay Area, an LGBTQ+ bastion, could harbor homophobia. When I was hired in 2003, San Leandro High had one openly gay teacher, Q. I quickly realized how much braver his coming out was compared with mine in Berkeley.

In San Leandro, gay slurs were heard nonstop in the hallways, no students were out, and by the end of my first year Q had quit, confiding in me that he couldn’t handle the homophobic harassment from students anymore. There was no GSA. A few years ago, two lesbians had held hands during lunch and inspired the wrath of a group of parents who advocated for their expulsion. In response, a teacher tried to introduce gay sensitivity training into his class and the same group of parents tried to get him fired. He was reprimanded by the principal, he countersued in a case that went all the way to the California Supreme Court, and won. Comparing these two local high schools reinforced to me how visibility really matters in creating a childhood experience that is nurturing versus traumatizing.¹

Two Chinese girls in love

N and T were two Chinese girls who grew up in San Leandro. They went to the same elementary school and had crushes on each other since then. In their junior year, they joined our first student GSA, becoming president and vice-president. They were out. And, of course, they must’ve known that their families, who would not have been supportive, would become aware. I remember sitting at an outdoor concert when I got a text from N warning me her father had found out and blamed me for having corrupted her. He planned on coming to school to demand I be fired. And such was the unrelenting pressure that N and T faced every time they went home from school and sat at their dinner tables. Eventually, they broke up. They didn’t do so tearfully, but more wearily.

This story illustrates how difficult it is for love between two LGBTQ+ teens to be nurtured. Love in youth can already be volatile because of the lack of emotional regulation and experience. The questioning of identity and the threat of family disintegration at a time when these teens do not have the economic means to protect themselves makes love dangerous. It is no wonder that gay teens are at increased risk for homelessness.²

The family incident that led to the girls’ breakup reveals how culture affects homophobic pressure. N resisted her parents’ disapproval for months, but she capitulated when her father had a heart attack and blamed it on her. “And it’s true,” N confided. “After my parents found out, they were continually stressed. I could see it affect their health. And it breaks my heart to see my dad in the hospital.”

For N, she had not capitulated from fear, but perhaps because of filial piety, or one’s obligation to protect one’s parent. It was a choice between two heartbreaks. Double minorities, like N and T, face a double threat and often can find no safe place. One of my patients who is gay and Black put it best: “It’s like being beaten up at school only to come home to another beating.” This double threat is evidenced by the higher suicide risk of ethnicities who are LGBTQ+ relative to their white counterparts.³

The confusion of a gay athlete

R was a star point guard, a senior who had secured an athletic scholarship, and was recognized as the best athlete in our county. A popular boy, he flaunted his physique and flirted with all the girls. And then when he was enrolled in my class, he began flirting with all the boys, too. There was gossip that R was bisexual. Then one day, not unexpectedly, he came out to me as gay. He admitted he only flirted with girls for his reputation.

By this time many students had come out to me but he flirted with me with his revelation. I corrected him and warned him unequivocally that it was inappropriate but I was worried because I knew he had placed his trust in me. I also knew he came from a homophobic family that was violent – his father had attacked him physically at a school game and our coaches had to pull him off.

Instinctively, I felt I had to have a witness so I confided in another teacher and documented the situation meticulously. Then, one day, just as I feared, he went too far. He stayed after class and said he wanted to show me something on his phone. And that something turned out to be a picture of himself naked. I immediately confiscated the phone and reported it to the administration. This was not how I wanted him to come out: His family notified by the police that he had sexually harassed his teacher, expulsion pending, and scholarship inevitably revoked. Fortunately, we did find a resolution that restored R’s future.

Let’s examine the circumstances that could’ve informed his transgressive behavior. If we consider sexual harassment a form of bullying, R’s history of having a father who publicly bullied him – and may have bullied others in front of him – is a known risk factor.⁴ It is also common knowledge that organized team sports were and still are a bastion of homophobia and that gay athletes had to accept a culture of explicit homophobia.⁵

So, it is not hard to understand the constant public pressures that R faced in addition to those from his family. Let’s also consider that appropriate sexual behaviors are not something we are born with, but something that is learned. Of course, inappropriate sexual behavior also happens in the heterosexual world. But heterosexual sexual behavior often has more accepted paths of trial and error. Children experiment with these behaviors and are corrected by adults and older peers as they mature.

However, for homosexual behaviors, there is not usually the fine-tuning about what is appropriate.
 

Summary

An educational environment where LGBTQ+ persons are highly visible and accepted is a more nurturing environment for LGBTQ teens than one that is not. Specific subcultures within the LGBTQ population involving race, culture, gender, and athletics modulate the experience of coming out and the nature of homophobic oppression.

Dr. Nguyen is a first-year psychiatry resident at the University of San Francisco School of Medicine at Fresno.

References

1. Kosciw JG et al. The effect of negative school climate on academic outcomes for LGBT youth and the role of in-school supports. J Sch Violence. 2013;12(1):45-63.

2. Center for American Progress. Gay and Transgender Youth Homelessness by the Numbers. June 21, 2010).

3. O’Donnell S et al. Increased risk of suicide attempts among Black and Latino lesbians, gay men, and bisexuals. Am J Public Health. 2011;101(6):1055-9.

4. Farrington D and Baldry A. Individual risk factors for school bullying. J Aggress Confl Peace Res. 2010 Jan;2(1):4-16.

5. Anderson E. Openly gay athletes: Contesting hegemonic masculinity in a homophobic environment Gend Soc. 2002 Dec:16(6):860-77.

I am a psychiatrist now but had another life teaching English in public high school for 17 years. My teaching life, in which I was an openly gay teacher, spanned 2001-2018 and was divided between two urban California schools – in Berkeley and San Leandro. I came out by responding honestly to student questions about whether I had a girlfriend, and what I did over the weekend. At Berkeley High my openness wasn’t an issue at all. The school had a vibrant Gay Straight Alliance/GSA for years, there were many openly gay staff and many openly gay students. No students felt the need to come out to me in search of a gay mentor.

Two years later, I began teaching in San Leandro, 20 miles away, and it was a lesson in how even the San Francisco Bay Area, an LGBTQ+ bastion, could harbor homophobia. When I was hired in 2003, San Leandro High had one openly gay teacher, Q. I quickly realized how much braver his coming out was compared with mine in Berkeley.

In San Leandro, gay slurs were heard nonstop in the hallways, no students were out, and by the end of my first year Q had quit, confiding in me that he couldn’t handle the homophobic harassment from students anymore. There was no GSA. A few years ago, two lesbians had held hands during lunch and inspired the wrath of a group of parents who advocated for their expulsion. In response, a teacher tried to introduce gay sensitivity training into his class and the same group of parents tried to get him fired. He was reprimanded by the principal, he countersued in a case that went all the way to the California Supreme Court, and won. Comparing these two local high schools reinforced to me how visibility really matters in creating a childhood experience that is nurturing versus traumatizing.¹

Two Chinese girls in love

N and T were two Chinese girls who grew up in San Leandro. They went to the same elementary school and had crushes on each other since then. In their junior year, they joined our first student GSA, becoming president and vice-president. They were out. And, of course, they must’ve known that their families, who would not have been supportive, would become aware. I remember sitting at an outdoor concert when I got a text from N warning me her father had found out and blamed me for having corrupted her. He planned on coming to school to demand I be fired. And such was the unrelenting pressure that N and T faced every time they went home from school and sat at their dinner tables. Eventually, they broke up. They didn’t do so tearfully, but more wearily.

This story illustrates how difficult it is for love between two LGBTQ+ teens to be nurtured. Love in youth can already be volatile because of the lack of emotional regulation and experience. The questioning of identity and the threat of family disintegration at a time when these teens do not have the economic means to protect themselves makes love dangerous. It is no wonder that gay teens are at increased risk for homelessness.²

The family incident that led to the girls’ breakup reveals how culture affects homophobic pressure. N resisted her parents’ disapproval for months, but she capitulated when her father had a heart attack and blamed it on her. “And it’s true,” N confided. “After my parents found out, they were continually stressed. I could see it affect their health. And it breaks my heart to see my dad in the hospital.”

For N, she had not capitulated from fear, but perhaps because of filial piety, or one’s obligation to protect one’s parent. It was a choice between two heartbreaks. Double minorities, like N and T, face a double threat and often can find no safe place. One of my patients who is gay and Black put it best: “It’s like being beaten up at school only to come home to another beating.” This double threat is evidenced by the higher suicide risk of ethnicities who are LGBTQ+ relative to their white counterparts.³

The confusion of a gay athlete

R was a star point guard, a senior who had secured an athletic scholarship, and was recognized as the best athlete in our county. A popular boy, he flaunted his physique and flirted with all the girls. And then when he was enrolled in my class, he began flirting with all the boys, too. There was gossip that R was bisexual. Then one day, not unexpectedly, he came out to me as gay. He admitted he only flirted with girls for his reputation.

By this time many students had come out to me but he flirted with me with his revelation. I corrected him and warned him unequivocally that it was inappropriate but I was worried because I knew he had placed his trust in me. I also knew he came from a homophobic family that was violent – his father had attacked him physically at a school game and our coaches had to pull him off.

Instinctively, I felt I had to have a witness so I confided in another teacher and documented the situation meticulously. Then, one day, just as I feared, he went too far. He stayed after class and said he wanted to show me something on his phone. And that something turned out to be a picture of himself naked. I immediately confiscated the phone and reported it to the administration. This was not how I wanted him to come out: His family notified by the police that he had sexually harassed his teacher, expulsion pending, and scholarship inevitably revoked. Fortunately, we did find a resolution that restored R’s future.

Let’s examine the circumstances that could’ve informed his transgressive behavior. If we consider sexual harassment a form of bullying, R’s history of having a father who publicly bullied him – and may have bullied others in front of him – is a known risk factor.⁴ It is also common knowledge that organized team sports were and still are a bastion of homophobia and that gay athletes had to accept a culture of explicit homophobia.⁵

So, it is not hard to understand the constant public pressures that R faced in addition to those from his family. Let’s also consider that appropriate sexual behaviors are not something we are born with, but something that is learned. Of course, inappropriate sexual behavior also happens in the heterosexual world. But heterosexual sexual behavior often has more accepted paths of trial and error. Children experiment with these behaviors and are corrected by adults and older peers as they mature.

However, for homosexual behaviors, there is not usually the fine-tuning about what is appropriate.
 

Summary

An educational environment where LGBTQ+ persons are highly visible and accepted is a more nurturing environment for LGBTQ teens than one that is not. Specific subcultures within the LGBTQ population involving race, culture, gender, and athletics modulate the experience of coming out and the nature of homophobic oppression.

Dr. Nguyen is a first-year psychiatry resident at the University of San Francisco School of Medicine at Fresno.

References

1. Kosciw JG et al. The effect of negative school climate on academic outcomes for LGBT youth and the role of in-school supports. J Sch Violence. 2013;12(1):45-63.

2. Center for American Progress. Gay and Transgender Youth Homelessness by the Numbers. June 21, 2010).

3. O’Donnell S et al. Increased risk of suicide attempts among Black and Latino lesbians, gay men, and bisexuals. Am J Public Health. 2011;101(6):1055-9.

4. Farrington D and Baldry A. Individual risk factors for school bullying. J Aggress Confl Peace Res. 2010 Jan;2(1):4-16.

5. Anderson E. Openly gay athletes: Contesting hegemonic masculinity in a homophobic environment Gend Soc. 2002 Dec:16(6):860-77.

I am a psychiatrist now but had another life teaching English in public high school for 17 years. My teaching life, in which I was an openly gay teacher, spanned 2001-2018 and was divided between two urban California schools – in Berkeley and San Leandro. I came out by responding honestly to student questions about whether I had a girlfriend, and what I did over the weekend. At Berkeley High my openness wasn’t an issue at all. The school had a vibrant Gay Straight Alliance/GSA for years, there were many openly gay staff and many openly gay students. No students felt the need to come out to me in search of a gay mentor.

Two years later, I began teaching in San Leandro, 20 miles away, and it was a lesson in how even the San Francisco Bay Area, an LGBTQ+ bastion, could harbor homophobia. When I was hired in 2003, San Leandro High had one openly gay teacher, Q. I quickly realized how much braver his coming out was compared with mine in Berkeley.

In San Leandro, gay slurs were heard nonstop in the hallways, no students were out, and by the end of my first year Q had quit, confiding in me that he couldn’t handle the homophobic harassment from students anymore. There was no GSA. A few years ago, two lesbians had held hands during lunch and inspired the wrath of a group of parents who advocated for their expulsion. In response, a teacher tried to introduce gay sensitivity training into his class and the same group of parents tried to get him fired. He was reprimanded by the principal, he countersued in a case that went all the way to the California Supreme Court, and won. Comparing these two local high schools reinforced to me how visibility really matters in creating a childhood experience that is nurturing versus traumatizing.¹

Two Chinese girls in love

N and T were two Chinese girls who grew up in San Leandro. They went to the same elementary school and had crushes on each other since then. In their junior year, they joined our first student GSA, becoming president and vice-president. They were out. And, of course, they must’ve known that their families, who would not have been supportive, would become aware. I remember sitting at an outdoor concert when I got a text from N warning me her father had found out and blamed me for having corrupted her. He planned on coming to school to demand I be fired. And such was the unrelenting pressure that N and T faced every time they went home from school and sat at their dinner tables. Eventually, they broke up. They didn’t do so tearfully, but more wearily.

This story illustrates how difficult it is for love between two LGBTQ+ teens to be nurtured. Love in youth can already be volatile because of the lack of emotional regulation and experience. The questioning of identity and the threat of family disintegration at a time when these teens do not have the economic means to protect themselves makes love dangerous. It is no wonder that gay teens are at increased risk for homelessness.²

The family incident that led to the girls’ breakup reveals how culture affects homophobic pressure. N resisted her parents’ disapproval for months, but she capitulated when her father had a heart attack and blamed it on her. “And it’s true,” N confided. “After my parents found out, they were continually stressed. I could see it affect their health. And it breaks my heart to see my dad in the hospital.”

For N, she had not capitulated from fear, but perhaps because of filial piety, or one’s obligation to protect one’s parent. It was a choice between two heartbreaks. Double minorities, like N and T, face a double threat and often can find no safe place. One of my patients who is gay and Black put it best: “It’s like being beaten up at school only to come home to another beating.” This double threat is evidenced by the higher suicide risk of ethnicities who are LGBTQ+ relative to their white counterparts.³

The confusion of a gay athlete

R was a star point guard, a senior who had secured an athletic scholarship, and was recognized as the best athlete in our county. A popular boy, he flaunted his physique and flirted with all the girls. And then when he was enrolled in my class, he began flirting with all the boys, too. There was gossip that R was bisexual. Then one day, not unexpectedly, he came out to me as gay. He admitted he only flirted with girls for his reputation.

By this time many students had come out to me but he flirted with me with his revelation. I corrected him and warned him unequivocally that it was inappropriate but I was worried because I knew he had placed his trust in me. I also knew he came from a homophobic family that was violent – his father had attacked him physically at a school game and our coaches had to pull him off.

Instinctively, I felt I had to have a witness so I confided in another teacher and documented the situation meticulously. Then, one day, just as I feared, he went too far. He stayed after class and said he wanted to show me something on his phone. And that something turned out to be a picture of himself naked. I immediately confiscated the phone and reported it to the administration. This was not how I wanted him to come out: His family notified by the police that he had sexually harassed his teacher, expulsion pending, and scholarship inevitably revoked. Fortunately, we did find a resolution that restored R’s future.

Let’s examine the circumstances that could’ve informed his transgressive behavior. If we consider sexual harassment a form of bullying, R’s history of having a father who publicly bullied him – and may have bullied others in front of him – is a known risk factor.⁴ It is also common knowledge that organized team sports were and still are a bastion of homophobia and that gay athletes had to accept a culture of explicit homophobia.⁵

So, it is not hard to understand the constant public pressures that R faced in addition to those from his family. Let’s also consider that appropriate sexual behaviors are not something we are born with, but something that is learned. Of course, inappropriate sexual behavior also happens in the heterosexual world. But heterosexual sexual behavior often has more accepted paths of trial and error. Children experiment with these behaviors and are corrected by adults and older peers as they mature.

However, for homosexual behaviors, there is not usually the fine-tuning about what is appropriate.
 

Summary

An educational environment where LGBTQ+ persons are highly visible and accepted is a more nurturing environment for LGBTQ teens than one that is not. Specific subcultures within the LGBTQ population involving race, culture, gender, and athletics modulate the experience of coming out and the nature of homophobic oppression.

Dr. Nguyen is a first-year psychiatry resident at the University of San Francisco School of Medicine at Fresno.

References

1. Kosciw JG et al. The effect of negative school climate on academic outcomes for LGBT youth and the role of in-school supports. J Sch Violence. 2013;12(1):45-63.

2. Center for American Progress. Gay and Transgender Youth Homelessness by the Numbers. June 21, 2010).

3. O’Donnell S et al. Increased risk of suicide attempts among Black and Latino lesbians, gay men, and bisexuals. Am J Public Health. 2011;101(6):1055-9.

4. Farrington D and Baldry A. Individual risk factors for school bullying. J Aggress Confl Peace Res. 2010 Jan;2(1):4-16.

5. Anderson E. Openly gay athletes: Contesting hegemonic masculinity in a homophobic environment Gend Soc. 2002 Dec:16(6):860-77.

After 15 years as a high school teacher at urban schools, I realized adults widely misunderstand that teenagers do not want to talk to them. In fact, most crave finding an adult they can trust and have serious conversations about issues like sex, drugs, and death. G was a sophomore who was going blind from a rare degenerative disease and one day sought my guidance about a sexual orgy he accidentally got in involved in. Was it wrong? Would God send him to hell? Why was he now so anxious after?

Because I was an openly gay teacher, students every semester would come out to me, asking what the “gay scene” was like, or how to deal with a homophobic family. Sometimes, students would seek counsel about an unplanned pregnancy, about abortion. In one instance, a student sought counsel about her violent thoughts, and eventually checked herself into a psychiatric ward. Five separate times, students in my class were murdered and I accompanied my classes through mourning.

Unlike many pediatricians, a teacher has a lot of time with these young adults: daily, sometimes over years. Students often admit they spend more time with their teachers than their parents. I can’t give you that time, but here are some general tips.
 

Attitude promoting trust

My guiding attitude toward teens was that they were my equals. I would “do unto them as I would have them do unto me.” Not less, but also not more – because sometimes “more” can cloak condescension. When I was a student, I trusted teachers who shared their fears and mistakes, not performing under a confessional spotlight, but to establish commonality, to flatten hierarchy. I also trusted those who could set boundaries and wield authority compassionately. Because sometimes I needed a firm hand. And so, as an adult I tried to give this to my students as well.

Although my students and I were equals, our situations are different. That is true with gender, race, and class, and it is also true with adults versus teens. The first step toward treating someone authentically as an equal when in a position of authority is to understand the unique stressors of their life. That means asking questions and listening to what they need.
 

Stressors in a teen’s life

A typical high school junior or senior goes to work 8-10 hours a day. Unpaid. They sit for hours at a small desk in a small room with sometimes 34 others. Most of the time they cannot eat or use their phone. If they need to pee, they need to ask permission. They have to ask permission to speak. And then when they go home, they sit at a small desk again for homework. They often do not even have their own room. They also have to ask for permission to buy something for themselves, for money, for a ride anywhere. Their values are often compromised so they won’t get kicked out of a house or a class. The life of a teen is not at all “carefree” but largely prescribed and with little control.

When I think about my youth and how little freedom, privacy, and control I had compared with now, it softens my attitude to even the rudest student. (Isn’t rudeness often a sign of resistance against an oppressive system?) But, some may say, these teens do not have to worry about bills. But if I think back honestly to my teen years, would I trade the responsibilities I have now for those supposed carefree years? Carefree is not how most teens describe their lives but a nostalgic rosy retrospection adults assign. Almost all teens I taught would rather work to gain some control over their lives. Which is why so many work 4-5 hours after school on top of homework, giving up their weekends, and binding themselves to a “carefree” 60- to 80-hour work week.
 

Talking about drugs, sex, and mental health

Drugs

It’s a good idea to first disarm teens of their fear of judgment or punishment, saying things like: “It’s normal to experiment with drugs, even hard ones.” The most successful, respected adults you see now have, so it’s not a reflection of who you are. Tell me what you’re worried about and it’ll be just between us.

After rapport is established, follow-up questions that elicit and affirm their feelings and thoughts can encourage more revelations: Do you think you have a problem? Why? How do you get your drugs and I’m curious only because finding that out can help us understand risks and solutions. What made you start? And keep on using?
 

Sex

Again, first disarm their fears: You can talk to me freely and confidently about sex: What you do, who you do it with, how you do it, and how often – I know that people are very different in their sexual interests and activities.

It is also good to set up clear boundaries. I had instances where students had romantic interest in me and would use these conversations as overtures. If you feel like your patient may be interested in you, then be explicit about boundaries: I’m a doctor who can point you to resources or offer treatments related to any sexual practice and its consequences, but that is all I am. Anything else is illegal and would end our patient-doctor relationship. (I would also immediately document the interaction and tell it to a witness.)

I never escalated incidences like this because I understood that most teens are naturally curious and often not taught about sexual boundaries, so I tried to make these encounters “teachable moments,” not punitive ones. Many teens are more aware of health consequences, like STDs or pregnancy, than psychological ones. So, it’s useful to ask: When you have sex outside your relationship, how does that make you feel? Does sex with multiple partners make you anxious or guilty afterwards? I like to use straightforward language and normalize taboo sexual practices with an even tone to allow teens to speak truthfully.
 

Suicide/depression

First, disarm and normalize: It is very common for people to have depression or thoughts of suicide. Most of the adults around you probably have and so have I (if that is true). Have you experienced this? Older teens often crave an intelligent open discussion about depression and suicide. If they look particularly distressed, I also tell them that I, and countless others, found strategies to deal with these thoughts. For most older teens, talking about causes of mental health issues and treatments is a breath of fresh air. This is especially true for teens from urban communities who have dealt precociously with death and violence, minority communities where mental health is often stigmatized, and young males whose machismo code can prevent them from acknowledging their feelings.

Some follow-up questions: Where do you think these thoughts come from? And if they don’t know: It’s perfectly normal for there to be no reason. The important thing is that they don’t last too long and that you know that. And if they do, then I can provide you resources and potential treatments.
 

Summary

Treating teens as equals by understanding their situation allows understanding and compassion for their stressors. This motivates an inquisitive and collaborative patient-centric approach that allows a sharing of sensitive topics like drugs, sex, and mental health.

Dr. Nguyen is a resident in psychiatry at the University of California, San Francisco.

*This story was updated on Nov. 3, 2022.

After 15 years as a high school teacher at urban schools, I realized adults widely misunderstand that teenagers do not want to talk to them. In fact, most crave finding an adult they can trust and have serious conversations about issues like sex, drugs, and death. G was a sophomore who was going blind from a rare degenerative disease and one day sought my guidance about a sexual orgy he accidentally got in involved in. Was it wrong? Would God send him to hell? Why was he now so anxious after?

Because I was an openly gay teacher, students every semester would come out to me, asking what the “gay scene” was like, or how to deal with a homophobic family. Sometimes, students would seek counsel about an unplanned pregnancy, about abortion. In one instance, a student sought counsel about her violent thoughts, and eventually checked herself into a psychiatric ward. Five separate times, students in my class were murdered and I accompanied my classes through mourning.

Unlike many pediatricians, a teacher has a lot of time with these young adults: daily, sometimes over years. Students often admit they spend more time with their teachers than their parents. I can’t give you that time, but here are some general tips.
 

Attitude promoting trust

My guiding attitude toward teens was that they were my equals. I would “do unto them as I would have them do unto me.” Not less, but also not more – because sometimes “more” can cloak condescension. When I was a student, I trusted teachers who shared their fears and mistakes, not performing under a confessional spotlight, but to establish commonality, to flatten hierarchy. I also trusted those who could set boundaries and wield authority compassionately. Because sometimes I needed a firm hand. And so, as an adult I tried to give this to my students as well.

Although my students and I were equals, our situations are different. That is true with gender, race, and class, and it is also true with adults versus teens. The first step toward treating someone authentically as an equal when in a position of authority is to understand the unique stressors of their life. That means asking questions and listening to what they need.
 

Stressors in a teen’s life

A typical high school junior or senior goes to work 8-10 hours a day. Unpaid. They sit for hours at a small desk in a small room with sometimes 34 others. Most of the time they cannot eat or use their phone. If they need to pee, they need to ask permission. They have to ask permission to speak. And then when they go home, they sit at a small desk again for homework. They often do not even have their own room. They also have to ask for permission to buy something for themselves, for money, for a ride anywhere. Their values are often compromised so they won’t get kicked out of a house or a class. The life of a teen is not at all “carefree” but largely prescribed and with little control.

When I think about my youth and how little freedom, privacy, and control I had compared with now, it softens my attitude to even the rudest student. (Isn’t rudeness often a sign of resistance against an oppressive system?) But, some may say, these teens do not have to worry about bills. But if I think back honestly to my teen years, would I trade the responsibilities I have now for those supposed carefree years? Carefree is not how most teens describe their lives but a nostalgic rosy retrospection adults assign. Almost all teens I taught would rather work to gain some control over their lives. Which is why so many work 4-5 hours after school on top of homework, giving up their weekends, and binding themselves to a “carefree” 60- to 80-hour work week.
 

Talking about drugs, sex, and mental health

Drugs

It’s a good idea to first disarm teens of their fear of judgment or punishment, saying things like: “It’s normal to experiment with drugs, even hard ones.” The most successful, respected adults you see now have, so it’s not a reflection of who you are. Tell me what you’re worried about and it’ll be just between us.

After rapport is established, follow-up questions that elicit and affirm their feelings and thoughts can encourage more revelations: Do you think you have a problem? Why? How do you get your drugs and I’m curious only because finding that out can help us understand risks and solutions. What made you start? And keep on using?
 

Sex

Again, first disarm their fears: You can talk to me freely and confidently about sex: What you do, who you do it with, how you do it, and how often – I know that people are very different in their sexual interests and activities.

It is also good to set up clear boundaries. I had instances where students had romantic interest in me and would use these conversations as overtures. If you feel like your patient may be interested in you, then be explicit about boundaries: I’m a doctor who can point you to resources or offer treatments related to any sexual practice and its consequences, but that is all I am. Anything else is illegal and would end our patient-doctor relationship. (I would also immediately document the interaction and tell it to a witness.)

I never escalated incidences like this because I understood that most teens are naturally curious and often not taught about sexual boundaries, so I tried to make these encounters “teachable moments,” not punitive ones. Many teens are more aware of health consequences, like STDs or pregnancy, than psychological ones. So, it’s useful to ask: When you have sex outside your relationship, how does that make you feel? Does sex with multiple partners make you anxious or guilty afterwards? I like to use straightforward language and normalize taboo sexual practices with an even tone to allow teens to speak truthfully.
 

Suicide/depression

First, disarm and normalize: It is very common for people to have depression or thoughts of suicide. Most of the adults around you probably have and so have I (if that is true). Have you experienced this? Older teens often crave an intelligent open discussion about depression and suicide. If they look particularly distressed, I also tell them that I, and countless others, found strategies to deal with these thoughts. For most older teens, talking about causes of mental health issues and treatments is a breath of fresh air. This is especially true for teens from urban communities who have dealt precociously with death and violence, minority communities where mental health is often stigmatized, and young males whose machismo code can prevent them from acknowledging their feelings.

Some follow-up questions: Where do you think these thoughts come from? And if they don’t know: It’s perfectly normal for there to be no reason. The important thing is that they don’t last too long and that you know that. And if they do, then I can provide you resources and potential treatments.
 

Summary

Treating teens as equals by understanding their situation allows understanding and compassion for their stressors. This motivates an inquisitive and collaborative patient-centric approach that allows a sharing of sensitive topics like drugs, sex, and mental health.

Dr. Nguyen is a resident in psychiatry at the University of California, San Francisco.

*This story was updated on Nov. 3, 2022.

After 15 years as a high school teacher at urban schools, I realized adults widely misunderstand that teenagers do not want to talk to them. In fact, most crave finding an adult they can trust and have serious conversations about issues like sex, drugs, and death. G was a sophomore who was going blind from a rare degenerative disease and one day sought my guidance about a sexual orgy he accidentally got in involved in. Was it wrong? Would God send him to hell? Why was he now so anxious after?

Because I was an openly gay teacher, students every semester would come out to me, asking what the “gay scene” was like, or how to deal with a homophobic family. Sometimes, students would seek counsel about an unplanned pregnancy, about abortion. In one instance, a student sought counsel about her violent thoughts, and eventually checked herself into a psychiatric ward. Five separate times, students in my class were murdered and I accompanied my classes through mourning.

Unlike many pediatricians, a teacher has a lot of time with these young adults: daily, sometimes over years. Students often admit they spend more time with their teachers than their parents. I can’t give you that time, but here are some general tips.
 

Attitude promoting trust

My guiding attitude toward teens was that they were my equals. I would “do unto them as I would have them do unto me.” Not less, but also not more – because sometimes “more” can cloak condescension. When I was a student, I trusted teachers who shared their fears and mistakes, not performing under a confessional spotlight, but to establish commonality, to flatten hierarchy. I also trusted those who could set boundaries and wield authority compassionately. Because sometimes I needed a firm hand. And so, as an adult I tried to give this to my students as well.

Although my students and I were equals, our situations are different. That is true with gender, race, and class, and it is also true with adults versus teens. The first step toward treating someone authentically as an equal when in a position of authority is to understand the unique stressors of their life. That means asking questions and listening to what they need.
 

Stressors in a teen’s life

A typical high school junior or senior goes to work 8-10 hours a day. Unpaid. They sit for hours at a small desk in a small room with sometimes 34 others. Most of the time they cannot eat or use their phone. If they need to pee, they need to ask permission. They have to ask permission to speak. And then when they go home, they sit at a small desk again for homework. They often do not even have their own room. They also have to ask for permission to buy something for themselves, for money, for a ride anywhere. Their values are often compromised so they won’t get kicked out of a house or a class. The life of a teen is not at all “carefree” but largely prescribed and with little control.

When I think about my youth and how little freedom, privacy, and control I had compared with now, it softens my attitude to even the rudest student. (Isn’t rudeness often a sign of resistance against an oppressive system?) But, some may say, these teens do not have to worry about bills. But if I think back honestly to my teen years, would I trade the responsibilities I have now for those supposed carefree years? Carefree is not how most teens describe their lives but a nostalgic rosy retrospection adults assign. Almost all teens I taught would rather work to gain some control over their lives. Which is why so many work 4-5 hours after school on top of homework, giving up their weekends, and binding themselves to a “carefree” 60- to 80-hour work week.
 

Talking about drugs, sex, and mental health

Drugs

It’s a good idea to first disarm teens of their fear of judgment or punishment, saying things like: “It’s normal to experiment with drugs, even hard ones.” The most successful, respected adults you see now have, so it’s not a reflection of who you are. Tell me what you’re worried about and it’ll be just between us.

After rapport is established, follow-up questions that elicit and affirm their feelings and thoughts can encourage more revelations: Do you think you have a problem? Why? How do you get your drugs and I’m curious only because finding that out can help us understand risks and solutions. What made you start? And keep on using?
 

Sex

Again, first disarm their fears: You can talk to me freely and confidently about sex: What you do, who you do it with, how you do it, and how often – I know that people are very different in their sexual interests and activities.

It is also good to set up clear boundaries. I had instances where students had romantic interest in me and would use these conversations as overtures. If you feel like your patient may be interested in you, then be explicit about boundaries: I’m a doctor who can point you to resources or offer treatments related to any sexual practice and its consequences, but that is all I am. Anything else is illegal and would end our patient-doctor relationship. (I would also immediately document the interaction and tell it to a witness.)

I never escalated incidences like this because I understood that most teens are naturally curious and often not taught about sexual boundaries, so I tried to make these encounters “teachable moments,” not punitive ones. Many teens are more aware of health consequences, like STDs or pregnancy, than psychological ones. So, it’s useful to ask: When you have sex outside your relationship, how does that make you feel? Does sex with multiple partners make you anxious or guilty afterwards? I like to use straightforward language and normalize taboo sexual practices with an even tone to allow teens to speak truthfully.
 

Suicide/depression

First, disarm and normalize: It is very common for people to have depression or thoughts of suicide. Most of the adults around you probably have and so have I (if that is true). Have you experienced this? Older teens often crave an intelligent open discussion about depression and suicide. If they look particularly distressed, I also tell them that I, and countless others, found strategies to deal with these thoughts. For most older teens, talking about causes of mental health issues and treatments is a breath of fresh air. This is especially true for teens from urban communities who have dealt precociously with death and violence, minority communities where mental health is often stigmatized, and young males whose machismo code can prevent them from acknowledging their feelings.

Some follow-up questions: Where do you think these thoughts come from? And if they don’t know: It’s perfectly normal for there to be no reason. The important thing is that they don’t last too long and that you know that. And if they do, then I can provide you resources and potential treatments.
 

Summary

Treating teens as equals by understanding their situation allows understanding and compassion for their stressors. This motivates an inquisitive and collaborative patient-centric approach that allows a sharing of sensitive topics like drugs, sex, and mental health.

Dr. Nguyen is a resident in psychiatry at the University of California, San Francisco.

*This story was updated on Nov. 3, 2022.