At 5:30 p.m., entering the dark and eerie first floor of Emory University’s Tarbutton Hall feels like a chore. Around 20 freshmen pile into room 111, knowing a late arrival of more than five minutes is a 15-point penalty on their attendance grade. Once class promptly begins, we stash our phones away — even a quick glance can earn another deduction. The students watch the clock ticking on the wall like a boiling tea kettle as they sit through a dry lecture on embracing the elements of well-being.
When I asked two of my friends how they would describe Health 100, they responded with “depression” and “dead.” It is no surprise this class has a bad reputation among Emory first-years. For many of us, Health 100 is just another requirement that coincidentally meets at the worst times – for some students, it is their only Friday class. Even though the class may be dull and painful to sit through, the topics it covers are essential for a healthier campus culture. With depression and mental health issues surging among college students, especially college first-years, improving the Health 100 experience is a necessity.
As its syllabus states, Health 100 is a mandatory course in the fall, seeking to “engage, educate, encourage, and empower first-year students in their health and well-being.” Each week covers a different health topic area, ranging from elements of well-being to finding purpose in life. The class combines lectures and peer discussions, yet in practice, many students tune out, preferring to whisper about homework and weekend plans.
In every Health 100 class, many students are likely struggling with their own mental health problems. In college, this might include stress, addictions, lack of sleep, eating disorders or self-consciousness – the list goes on. This is not just speculation: According to a Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration study, 1 in 3 people between the ages of 18 and 25 experience a mental, behavioral or emotional health issue.
Numbers only tell part of the story. Everyone needs an outlet to have important life discussions. And, let’s be honest: we are not having serious conversations about mental wellness in Health 100. For me, they happen at 2 a.m., sitting in a Waffle House parking lot. This semester, a friend and I ate piping-hot waffles and smothered-and-covered hashbrowns while we opened up about personal, deep, uncomfortable conversations.
We talked about hate. We talked about dying. We talked about people close to us who hated themselves so much that they thought the only solution was to end their lives. We talked about how hard it is to find love — love for others and love for who you truly are.
These conversations should not just happen in Waffle House parking lots. Health 100 should create space for these conversations, but it does not. At least, not yet.
To Emory administrators and Peer Health Partners, I offer a few ideas. Students would benefit from more storytelling in class and fewer PowerPoints — we sit through enough lectures already. Having upperclassmen instructors share their own experiences instead of reading formulaic slides will help us overcome the same stressors we are bound to encounter. Restructuring the syllabus to reward participation, effort and honest reflection instead of relying on infractions and penalties will encourage students to actually contribute to conversations. Discussing material that connects to campus life and current events would feel timely, and students would be more inclined to listen if they knew their voices and experiences mattered in conversation. Above all, Health 100 should be a safe space for students to share their emotions and stories and understand that they are not alone. Freshman year is hard. It is chaotic and stressful both socially and academically, and Health 100 must do a better job of addressing this with real-world examples.
To my fellow first-years, I also have some advice. Do not wait for Health 100 or the weekend to check in on your peers and loved ones. Ask how they are doing today. Do not romanticize being busy — sometimes saying no is the healthiest choice. It is okay to not be friends with everyone, but treat your peers with the kindness and respect they deserve. Put your phone down at dinner and actually talk. Lastly, at least give Health 100 a chance.
Our time here is short. Forty-five minutes in room 111 can feel like years. But, before we know it, our four years will be gone. Let’s not waste this precious time and remember that life as an Emory student is a privilege as much as a responsibility. We must learn, grow and care for one another while we are here.
Contact Joshua Glazer at joshua.glazer@emory.edu