Comment on Philipstown Eyed for Mental Health Funds
How far backward have we come?
How far backward have we come? Reading the comments following this article about an existing peer-support respite home in Philipstown has been deeply troubling. Not because of disagreement — disagreement is part of public life — but because of the fear, stigma and complete loss of perspective surrounding some of our most vulnerable neighbors. And because of the misinformation inflamed by our local representatives. At one point, I looked at the number of “likes” on comments describing people struggling with mental health issues as something to fear, remove or push somewhere else. And I honestly found myself wondering: what kind of town have we become where the number of likes outweighs compassion, humanity and memory? So instead of counting the inhumane likes I thought of a different number. Do people not remember the heartbreaking image shared throughout this community not too long ago: a large number “7” beside the words “No More!” followed by seven dates between June 2013 and September 2015, each marking the month a Haldane graduate lost their life to overdose? Some of us remember. Some of us lived through it. And some of us have spent years fighting to make sure fewer families experience that kind of loss. This respite home was established during that time when our community was losing young people at an alarming rate because there were not enough mental health resources, not enough stabilization services, not enough places for people to go before crisis became tragedy. That history matters. And so does the truth. Nothing new was or is being proposed in this discussion. No new plan was introduced at the April 27 meeting (with the exception of possibly using some of the funds for mobile mental health units – a popular service which we also do not have). What I initiated was a public discussion — transparent — about how to preserve an existing service that has legally operated in Philipstown with existing federal funds earmarked for mental health. This is not a “facility.” It is not a “mental hospital.” It is not a jail. It is a home that provides short-term respite for up to seven individuals experiencing mental health crisis symptoms. It already exists. The discussion was about how to make sure we do not lose it — the one stabilization resources available in Putnam County. Yet despite this being explained repeatedly during the meeting, inflammatory comments by Supervisor Van Tassel and Legislator Gouldman suggesting the use “might be illegal” quickly transformed an existing service into something suspicious and frightening in the public eye. One comment in particular struck me deeply. After the article appeared, a resident wrote: “I am so sorry to hear that and thanks for the warning. I live two doors away.” Think about that for a moment. A person living two doors away apparently did not even realize there was a peer-support respite home nearby until public comments transformed an existing service into something to fear. I know many of the neighbors surrounding this property personally. In more than 10 years, not one resident ever contacted me as their elected representative to raise concerns about this home or request action regarding its operation. That reality matters too. What followed in the comments section was even more troubling: comparisons to jails, references to “attacks on our neighborhood,” and suggestions that people struggling with mental health challenges somehow do not belong in residential communities. How far backward have we come? Do people not remember why New York moved away from large institutional psychiatric facilities in the first place? Expose, one report after another, shocked this country because it forced people to confront what happens when society hides away vulnerable human beings instead of treating them with dignity, support and compassion. Mental health is basic health. The individuals who have the wherewithal to seek help are not “others.” They are our neighbors, our children, our veterans, our coworkers, our family members. Many are people trying desperately to stabilize before crisis becomes hospitalization, incarceration, homelessness or death. And despite the fear now being spread publicly, the facts matter. I have already requested emergency response data related to this property and surrounding neighborhoods. Based on the information reviewed so far, activity does not appear significantly different from many other residential areas in Philipstown — including my own neighborhood. Fear should not replace facts. What makes this especially painful is that the entire discussion began with an effort to preserve mental health funding and prevent the loss of the only stabilization resources currently available in Putnam County. Instead, the conversation became consumed by outrage, where “likes” became about a popularity contest and politics, over humanity and a home that has operated in this community for years. We are living in a time when mental health needs are exploding. Families are struggling. Young people are struggling. Seniors are struggling. Veterans are struggling. And resources remain dangerously limited. This was never about bringing something new to Philipstown. It was about whether we still have the humanity and courage to protect something that already exists — something created because our community once learned, through devastating loss, what happens when people have nowhere to go. We can either move forward with compassion, facts, and responsibility by working these things out – or continue sliding backwards into stigma, fear and performative outrage. I know which direction I choose. Montgomery represents Philipstown and part of Putnam Valley on the county Legislature.