Trauma

Steve has served as a police officer for 24 years, including being a SWAT team member for years. He and I have worked together on his traumatic experiences. He has told me that in a given day a police officer might have to deal with two to three overdoses and do CPR.

A muffled crack of thunder, followed by a flash of light that lit up the bedroom wall. Then another, louder CRACK! I had been lying in bed awake since 1AM, for three hours, my husband next to me, deep asleep. But now the wind was pushing violently against our windows, and I woke him up.

Racial and related inequities have immensely traumatized Black and Brown citizens of the United States for centuries.

In an already challenged, and often under-resourced mental health care system, the COVID-19 pandemic has led to an increase in mental health needs across the globe^1,2.

As many in the United States (US) stay home and practice social distancing to protect themselves from COVID-19, individuals from lower socioeconomic status (SES) backgrounds face heightened barriers and risks.

According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, in 2016 alone, there were an estimated 7,277,000 police reported traffic accidents in the United States.

Imagine one morning you wake up to a loud sound of explosion, and in disbelief find out the whole city is in chaos. There is no electricity, no tap water, grocery stores are closed indefinitely, and there is no gas for the car.

Prior to joining the Stress, Trauma and Anxiety Research Clinic (STARC) at Wayne State University (WSU), I did not know much about the refugee community, aside from what was publicized as a political point of contention during the 2016 election. I now see it as the crisis that it truly is.