It’s 4:30 in the morning, and I’m sitting in the dark with coffee because I’m so wired from the events of the week, and I wanted to share them as soon as possible so you can be inspired by them.

My portrait subject, Aiden, is finishing up his freshman year at Salem State University as a psychology major, and a while back he shared with me that he had pitched the idea of I Am More to the Civic Engagement Fellows, of which he is a member, and they were running with it. He sent me a fully formed plan of sharing the concept with students and providing maker spaces for them to create self-portraits and write what “I am more” means to them, but with a twist. This time it was, “Dear Professor, I Am More.”

I thought it was brilliant, but I secretly worried for him. Would anyone really participate? Would they create anything beyond a quick line drawing and a few lines of writing? They also planned to present the art and writing at Research Day on campus. Would anyone show up, or would they be talking to themselves?

Reader? They showed up.

After receiving a detailed schedule of events I found my way to room 112 in the Bertolon School of Business. The building was bustling with events and I thought, oh, if people have a choice they’re probably not going to come to the presentation on mental health awareness. Aiden was in the front of the room greeting people with the other Civic Fellows and tables were set up around the perimeter of the room. I gave him a hug and asked how things were going and he said, “It’s going well, we had 30 submissions!” Thirty?? Again, I tamped down expectations. You can see where this is going.

I slowly made my way along the tables and looked at the artwork (framed) with essays (also framed). The care, and thought, and time put into them shocked me for students coming into the end of their academic year. Each one was a different medium, different style, and different topic. This was not a ‘look over at whatever everyone else is doing and conform’ situation. This was what I had imagined when I invited students to participate in the project and they had pulled it off.

There seemed to be a new wave of activity, previous sessions must have just ended, because the room started to fill up with students and faculty. A group of students filled chairs at the front of the room and the presentation began.

Katelyn Adams, the Assistant Director for the Center of Civic Engagement, introduced the group and then stepped back and let the Fellows lead. As a non-speaker, I braced for the expected awkwardness and nerves of a student presentation. At this point I should have just told my brain to take a break, because these students HAD THIS. A small group of them read their artist statements, they presented graphs showing the increase of mental health challenges from a campus-wide poll. And then they announced a discussion period between students and faculty, and I thought, oh, this is going to be a forced exchange just to show that everyone has fulfilled their obligations here. And…no…again.

What followed was an experience I couldn’t have even have dreamed up. Students explaining passionately, respectfully and honestly about what they cope with in their private lives and how it impacts their attendance and creates intense anxiety about their grades, passing, and graduating. They weren’t asking for a lot, but they needed more support than they were getting. But who to give? The professors were emphatic that they cared and wanted their students to succeed. They asked how they could respond better, but everyone agreed that they were not there to be counselors, and as much as they could listen and honor the humanity and sometimes impossible situations at home, there was a department whose sole purpose was emotional support and it was recognized that the students needed more guidance in finding it.

A hand shot up and a woman from Counseling Services shared that her office was ready and available to help (no wait list!), and then another member of their staff chimed in. A hand at the back of the room went up and a man introduced himself as Provost David Silva, the academic vice president(!). He held up a handful of paper and said he had been taking “copious” notes throughout the presentation, and shared a time during the pandemic when he, too, was having a really hard emotional time, and finding an online support groups had changed his life. He revealed that he was one of THREE Salem State vice presidents in the room, along with their boss…President John Keenan, who had been right there behind me the whole time. I locked eyes with Aiden and he just smiled. President Keenan said he didn’t know what to expect when he was invited to attend, but his eyes had been opened, and he was immediately going to call a meeting to address the situation, and there were going to be changes.

Soak it in quickly, because the week wasn’t over.

I hopped in the car, threw some sustenance in my mouth, and drove to the Danversport Yacht Club, where a full parking lot, including school buses awaited. This was The NAN Project’s first ever Youth Summit for high school students from around the state, where I had been invited to lead a working group of over 40 students in learning how to take the idea of I Am More back to their schools by creating collaborative collages. I had pre-cut paper stars that we passed out for them to share what the words “I am more” meant to them which I will assemble in a collage for the Northshore Mall exhibition.

And, finally, yesterday, I carried a plate of cookies into the brand-new Michalak/Nagle Contemporary Art Gallery, where portraits David and Josh were chosen for the show, “Psychological Perceptions.” And instead of feeling intimidated and out of place, I found myself surrounded by kindred spirits. Artists addressing addiction in their family, the mental health of nurses, and the realities of being a caregiver to a family member with dementia. I had found a treasure trove of material for the Northshore Mall exhibition.

Takeaways from this week of wonders: we can lift each other up, if we choose to. We can be vulnerable and open, if we choose to. And we can advocate for ourselves and get the care we need, if we choose to.