A Generational Divide

 

Photos by Tim Mossholder and Vick Bufano, via Unsplash. Photo collage by Yunuen Bonaparte for palabra

 
 

Young Latinos challenge traditional notions about mental health

Editor’s note: This story was originally published by MindSite News.

Nathany Morraz was 16 when she suddenly felt tension in her chest that made it difficult to breathe. She began hyperventilating and asked her father to take her to the hospital. It turned out to be a panic attack.

Her father didn’t accept the emergency room diagnosis.

“That day I was panicking so much that my father yelled at me,” said Morraz, now 27, whose mother is from Honduras and father is from Nicaragua. “He said that I just wanted attention, and things like anxiety and depression don’t really exist.”

Culture plays a pivotal role in mental health. In many ways, Latino culture supports mental health through shared values that center on family and community. Latino families tend to be strong, cohesive and intergenerational, “with high levels of warmth and supportiveness and Latino fathers who are very involved in their families’ lives,” according to the National Research Center of Hispanic Children and Families.

Nathany Morraz, who grew up in a conservative household, felt she was treated differently by her parents for being a girl. Photo by Yesenia Barrios

But Morraz’ experience is also common in the Latino community, which tends to be steeped in deep religious beliefs and collectivist values that discourage a focus on individual needs. But it is also faced with continual stress and anxiety from being caught up in immigration problems, poverty, racist stereotypes and discrimination. The result is that a community with very high levels of need for mental health support is also one of the groups that is least served by mental health professionals.

Machismo, the Spanish word for male exhibition of virility, courage, strength and dominance, also comes into play, and is seen as a survival skill by some male immigrants. However, machismo can also play out as encouraging strict gender roles in which men are expected — even encouraged — to dominate women. Research shows that young, educated Latino men tend to reject this view of machismo and support feminist values, a change that some of their fathers or grandfathers view as a threat.

Immigrants who are undocumented are at special risk since they live in the shadows or risk deportation. One study, in which researchers interviewed 24 Latinas whose median age was 16.5, found that the risk of having their parents deported was especially terrifying. “I’ve been constantly worried about my parents being taken… And then when I think about that, that makes me want to cry,” one respondent wrote. Since that time, the constant political rhetoric and media attention over the “southern border crisis” has only intensified Latino youth’s feelings of helplessness and hypervigilance. 

Researchers have noted that “faced with adversities, many Latino families rely on their strengths to provide a loving and nurturing environment for their children.” The strength of Latino families may also account in part for the so-called Latino bounce or paradox, in which first-generation immigrants enjoy longer lives and better mental health than their U.S. counterparts.

But despite the overwhelming stress faced by many Latino families, mental health is still not a concept that is openly discussed or understood. As a result, experts say, depression and anxiety from being marginalized, exploited or living in a society increasingly hostile to migrants may result in ineffective and harmful coping mechanisms, including abuse and substance use. 


“Growing up as a Hispanic girl was very tough. When my dad found out my mom was pregnant with me, he said, ‘I don’t make girls, I only make boys. That baby is not mine.’”


Although Latinos in the U.S. are less likely to use illicit drugs than any other ethnic group except Asians, about 10.3% of Latinos over 12 years old have an alcohol use disorder, according to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), similar to whites (10.9%). About 19.4% of Latinos have used illicit drugs, compared to whites, (22.5%), with Latinos using mostly marijuana (15.8%) and 3.6% using other drugs, including stimulants and opioids, the agency found.

In 2021, 1 in 5 Latino teens had a major depressive episode in the past year, higher than any other group except multiracial Latinos (more than 27%). Of Latinos who suffered major depression, 75% were severely impaired, according to SAMHSA.

“When you add and unpack the cultural complexities, the fear, embarrassment, language barriers, and concerns of cultural incompetence, there could be unintended negative consequences,” says Lynnette Verges, chief operating officer of the New York City chapter of the  National Alliance on Mental Illness

Treated as second-class for being a girl

In many tradition-bound families where there’s a focus on male children, Latinas learn to put others first. That makes women in Latin communities more vulnerable to gender-based violence that stem from long-held patriarchal beliefs. 

“Growing up as a Hispanic girl was tough, very tough,” said Morraz. “When my dad found out my mom was pregnant with me, he said, ‘I don’t make girls, I only make boys. That baby is not mine.’” 

At Morraz’s childhood home, she had no privacy. Her parents often barged into her room and went through her phone while she slept — boundary crossing her brother didn’t face.    

Morraz constantly felt as if she had little to no freedom. During middle school, her father often made it clear she was constantly being surveilled with comments such as “I am watching you, I could go to your school in less than two minutes.” She was not allowed to wear tight clothes, have social media, paint her nails, shave, or groom her eyebrows, among other rules.

Karina Aguilar, assistant director at SAMSHA for the region that includes New Jersey, New York, and Puerto Rico, experienced those challenges growing up in Ecuador.

“(Men) are not raising their daughters the same way they’re raising their sons,” she said. “The sons can do so many things and get away with so much, but the daughters cannot.”

Morraz noticed the favoritism towards her brother since a young age. He was allowed to do things she couldn’t, such as having a romantic partner. If she got caught seeing a boy, not only she would be called derogatory names, but she would be grounded for weeks. Her mother would also say things like “you’re the girl in the house; you should be home cooking and serve your brother,” said Morraz. 

The CDC reports that young Latinas are one of the most vulnerable groups in the country, according to multiple studies. This is especially important since suicide is the second leading cause of death among people aged 10 to 14 and 20 to 34 in the United States.

“Latinas face specific challenges related to family-related stuff and immigration,” said Julie Lawrence, senior assistant vice president at Life Is Precious, a community-based program in New York offering young Latinas services including psychotherapy, art and music therapy, and tutoring to help youth and their families learn tools to cope.  

The stigma of homosexuality

Immigrating to the U.S or being the children of immigrants comes with many hurdles that add to people’s stress and isolation — learning a new language, navigating new systems, assimilating, feeling pressured to fit in. 

“There is this really big pressure to be at your best all the time, and to be mindful of who you’re sharing those vulnerabilities with and what can happen when you do that,” said Verges. 

For gay Latinos, those vulnerabilities may morph into something dangerous, even in their own family.


‘My grandfather told me that if I ever turned out gay, he would hang me on his palm tree.’


Hector* was raised by a single Mexican mother in Coachella Valley, California. They moved from shelter to shelter but the evangelist church the family attended offered stability. Their lives revolved around the church.

Hector, who is using a pseudonym for fear of retribution, identified as gay from a young age. The cultural norms of machismo and widespread rejection of homosexuality took an enormous toll on his mental health.

His grandfather, in particular, frightened him with his anti-gay pronouncements. His grandfather told him, he said, that “if I ever turned out gay, he would hang me on his palm tree.”

Years later, in the 7th grade, he made a fateful decision while eating lasagna for dinner: He came out to his mom. “She was not happy and told me that I was going to get HIV, and that my grandpa can’t find out or he will hate me,” Hector recalls. 

Hector, using a pseudonym, fears retribution from relatives convinced that homosexuality is a sin. Photo by Yesenia Barrios

With a family that didn’t believe in mental illness and a religious community that made him feel shameful about being gay, he suffered anxiety and depression. “It always felt like I had to fit in and act,” Hector said. “I was never given the chance for my mind to expand or even understand mental health.”

While religious involvement can often help people cope with a mental illness, it can also be harmful. “When it gets in the way of when you really need to get well, that is when it becomes a barrier,” NAMI-NYC’s Verges said.  One of the first steps to change, she said, is “a profound recognition that we can’t pray every problem away.”

Alcohol as a coping mechanism

Johnny Andon, 31, was raised by traditional Mexican parents: His father was the provider and his mom stayed at home to cook, clean, and taking care of the children. The financial burdens fell solely on his father, which obligated him to work 10 to 12 hours a day, 6 days a week in a warehouse where the job was tough and physically demanding. Men in his family were discouraged from showing emotion or being vulnerable. He is clear about how that impacted his father. 

He remembers his father drinking almost every weekend. “It (was bad) because he would go out with his friends, have drinks, and come home at 2, 3 in the morning and wake me up just to have a conversation,” Andon said. “I was his therapist – I would just sit there and let him talk until he was tired and fell asleep.”

Johnny Andon, who was raised in a traditional Mexican household, began to abuse alcohol throughout his 20s and has recently made the effort to stay sober. Photo by Yesenia Barrios

For Andon, seeing his father drink his problems away and suppress them subconsciously taught him to do the same. Mirroring his father’s behavior, he began to abuse alcohol throughout his 20’s. “I was drunk every weekend,” Andon recalls. Being surrounded by family and friends who grew up in similar situations enabled him. In his late 20’s, he understood it was a problem and decided to end the cycle. He has recently made an active effort to stay sober, but some weeks are more challenging than others.

A higher percentage of Latinos have never had even one drink of alcohol (31.8%) than their white peers (15.8%), but data from the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism shows that 1 in 10 Latinos will experience alcohol dependence in their lives. In addition, more than 33% of them will have recurring problems, compared to 22.8% of whites.

“I think everybody has a toolbox” to deal with the pressure and problems they are facing, SAMSHA’s Aguilar says. “In some people’s toolbox, the only thing that they may have is drinking.” 


‘Give yourself grace; the world is so unforgiving as it is. I want to get to a point where I don’t pass this trauma on to anyone.’


Hector, too, found an escape in alcohol, before turning to other drugs. 

He remembers when he got caught smoking weed with his cousin the night of May 15, 2020, and his uncle began hitting his cousin with a cable. 

“I started walking, I didn’t know where, but just didn’t want to be there. Then I heard a car behind me — I thought it was my cousin picking me up, but I did not hear it slowing down, and then I heard my uncle cussing me out,” he said. “I started running — he was chasing me around the neighborhood with the car, trying to run me over.” 

Eventually, his mom picked him up. When he told his uncle’s wife about the situation, she accused him of lying. 

Things spiraled out of control, and Hector had to go to rehab at 15 years old and again at 16. 

For a long time, he suffered from psychotic episodes that resulted in self-harm: hitting and cutting himself. His family was concerned but showed it mostly by advising him to pray more and stop sinning. 

Lack of education often means not knowing how to offer appropriate support, said Verges. “Family members also want to help and support, and they can sometimes be invalidating because they don’t have the tools, information and resources.”

New hope moving forward

Training Latino religious leaders on mental illnesses and psychological first aid is a key tool in the effort to bring awareness about mental health to the broader Latino community, said SAMHSA’s Karina Aguilar.

In Region 2, SAMHSA runs a partnership center focused on reaching out to faith leaders to train them in ways of helping their congregants cope with a mental illness, substance addiction and/or suicidal thoughts.

For Morraz, Andon, and Hector, awareness has been the first step to healing and improving their relationships with their parents and family members. 

A big first step is to speak about mental health more and normalize the subject, said Verges. “It’s okay to say, ‘I don’t have it together right now and I need some help figuring this out,’” she said. “The more you educate yourself, the more you can use your story and experience to educate and share with others.”

Morraz moved to New York City at age 21, where she became independent. Photo by Yesenia Barrios

Finding refuge in other healthy outlets to cope with stress, such as exercise, are key, but when possible, separating yourself from toxic environments can make a significant difference. Morraz and Hector decided to take that step at age 21 and 20, respectively, by moving to New York City, where they found jobs that gave them financial freedom.

They talk with their parents constantly on the phone and sometimes go back home to visit, but both agree that the distance has significantly helped improve their mental health.

Therapy, while less accessible, is also effective. Lawrence, Verges, and Aguilar said finding someone they trust and asking for help was life-changing for them. “Once you get used to the help-seeking culture, you get more comfortable with it and understand you’re not alone,” Lawrence said.  

Morraz, Andon, and Hector are all hoping to be part of the change that is so desperately needed in the Latin community. 

“Give yourself grace, the world is so unforgiving as it is,” said Morraz. “Healing is not linear, but I want to get to a point where I don’t pass this trauma on to anybody, and that is how we get to control the situation within our community.”

MindSite News is the nation’s only nonprofit news outlet focused solely on mental health. You can sign up for their daily newsletter here.

Yesenia Barrios is a freelance writer in New York City who specializes in mental health issues.

 
Feature, Healthpalabra.