People will give you their trust. What will you do with it?

On 8 May I was fortunate to provide the keynote for Cairnmillar’s graduation of new psychology, counselling and psychotherapy students. I had noticed in the 10 years since I had my last graduation event, how much more diverse our universities are. A positive thing. I hope this translates into a more diverse workforce in the mental health system. That will support (though not assure) better experiences, more inclusive services, and more compliance with human rights. The speech below.

I also wish to acknowledge the traditional owners of the lands we meet on today, the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nations. I pay my respects to elders past and present, any First Nations members here today, and reaffirm that sovereignty was never ceded. Acknowledgements can mean different things to different people, but to me they are reminder to support truth and justice.

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I’m proud to be here. It’s a privilege. My days are often involved in speaking to government or to mental health services on opportunities to better embed human rights, co-design or consumer lived experience perspectives on mental health.

But 10 years ago things were different. Back then, it was just about getting from this day to the next. I had just returned from overseas, thinking I would find myself, but I instead came back in little pieces. Trauma, isolation and distress meant I couldn’t recognise the person the person who had returned to Australia.

There were days where I simply couldn’t leave the house for fear. Some days I lost the ability to speak. Other days I couldn’t keep the thoughts in my head. I remember being in the bus one day and then realised to my embarrassment, that I’d been talking my thoughts out loud for everyone to hear. My body and mind felt unsafe to me.

I don’t know what I wanted from Ken, my psychiatrist, when I stepped into his office. I’d never felt like this before. I knew I needed something. I was desperate, so I gave him my trust. My story ended well. I’m here today.

But I’m one of the lucky ones. The system worked for me. When I asked for help, I paid for it, and I got it.

My story is not like others.

Many have sought help from our mental health system, only to be turned away.

Many others have turned away from a harmful system, only to be locked within it.

Others, tonight, don’t have roofs over their heads.

Some people feel unsafe in the street, in their workplace, at home.

Systems have continuously failed them, inviting them to downgrade their self-worth.

Maybe you have occupied this world. Either way, in your work, you will meet these people, failed by systems, coming to you.

It is a miracle that people will give you their trust. What will you do with it?

As you graduate today, you are given a small ritualistic window to reaffirm your values and your commitments. This applies to how you work with individuals, and, how you contribute to changing the systems that impact those individuals and their families.

There is a great deal of work to do.

The Royal Commission into Victoria’s Mental Health System spoke of a system that often couldn’t help when people turned to it, and often harmed people when they were in it. Our mental health laws cause harm, our assessment processes often stigmatise and our organisational structures disconnect rather than connect us to our shared humanity.

This might not make sense, so I’ll take a step back.

Our mental health system was not founded on human rights, equality or lived experience. It was founded on a custodial framework that fused care and control. We have made substantial progress in improving mental health systems and conditions in some of our closed environments, but we continue to struggle with that legacy today in ways that are often unseen.

Patrick knew this. Patrick was someone who you haven’t heard of, but you should. Patrick was in a long-stay psychiatric unit, a softly spoken and kind man, who would sneak out of the unit sometimes to go back to his home. When the service were concerned about Patrick’s length of stay and wished to transfer him to an aged care unit to save money, they sought to appoint his brother to be a guardian and administrator, knowing that they would sell his home. His home was everything to him. Everything.

Patrick didn’t accept this. Instead, Patrick took his case all the way to the Victorian Supreme Court. He and his community lawyer said this is unjust, unequal and unlawful. And you know, they won. Patrick while, still often detained in a place he didn’t want to be, was able to keep his home. Patrick is one of many Victorians who have endured harm in the mental health system, but demanded better. That’s why the Supreme Court justice decided to name the case after him, Patrick’s case.

Last year myself and 7 other authors with lived experience as consumers and carers provided a report, called “Not Before Time: Lived Experience Led Justice and Repair”. That report detailed current gross human rights violations within Victoria’s mental health system and the need for a process of restorative justice. Our advice to the Minister for Mental Health is that in order to move towards a better future, we need to grapple with our past and present. We can make a better new system together, by deciding collectively to leave the old one behind. We still await a response to our advice.

The new mental health system, we are told, will be one built on lived experience, built on therapeutic engagements, built on human rights.

These promises are important, but it is not the Royal Commission’s task of keeping them. It is the Victorian Government’s duty. It is mental health leaders duty. It is also our duty. We meet those duties and build that trust not in grandiose events, but in spectacular daily moments of bravery, love and care. Let me explain.

When an individual trusts you with their story, will you honour that by meeting and making meaning with them, rather than just assessing them?

When an individual trusts you enough to challenge you, will you hear rather than silence them?

When an individual invites you to earn their trust, will you?

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Psychotherapy or psychological assessment can be a solitary exercise between two people. Looking at individual stories or different signs and symptoms may be a common part of your work. But we all work, and live, in systems.

The system remains harmful to many. Do what you can to change to systems that harm people, and where you can

As you progress in your work, you will be confronted by the inadequacies of the mental health system. You may not always be able to change someone’s circumstances, but you can validate their story.

As you progress in your work, you will be afforded the opportunity to work alongside lived experience workers. You cannot change all parts of the system that impact lived experience workers, but you can impact moments.

As you progress in your work, you may interact with people who find themselves in the public mental health system. You didn’t make the laws that people are subject to, but you can make sure they and their treating team understand their rights.

And luckily, many of the skills and values you have learned and the commitment that brought you to this moment, put you in good stead. Cairnmillar identifies five values that guide all of their work.

When I hear respect, I hear you being responsive to each individual, their identity, and their story.

When I hear integrity, I hear you embodying human rights, care and strength in supporting people in their lives and in navigating systems that affect them.

When I hear compassion, I hear you valuing others and giving weight to their concerns, while also forgiving yourself while you make mistakes and learn.

When I hear professionalism, I perhaps optimistically, hope you are part of a new movement that continue to reshape your profession around human rights, lived experience and social justice.

When I hear collaboration, I hear people who make meaning with their clients, and being part of collaborations for systemic change.

If you’re still unsure, and you should be, because we all should be, there are things that we can do.

We can connect more to understand and honour a rich, deep and proud mental health consumer movement.

We can take the time to learn about human rights, and what they mean for our practice and for the broader system.

We can address injustice through practices that are grounded in relational ways of knowing and being.

And we can ensure, as we meet on this land, in this moment, that we learn about how to support truth and justice through Treaty in Victoria.

In the end, the greatest gifts you have to support people in distress, you’ve always had. Time, systems, ideologies, and interests will always seek to deter you from what you can do.

I believe that you have the knowledge to sort right from wrong. I believe that you have what you need to make good choices. I believe that you have the skills to shape someone’s world for the better.

But you need to ask yourself this question in advance: when people give you their trust, what will you do with it.

Thank you.