A counselor at a New London school calls the local Community Health Center: A young Spanish-speaking boy has been cutting himself. He needs to talk to someone who understands his language. With only a state insurance plan, where can he find help? New London CHC Director Alejandro Melendez-Cooper (pictured at middle) says his clinic now has the resources to reach that boy. And a coalition of mental health providers is looking at ways to help other Latinos get proper care.
Melendez-Cooper, a Peruvian native who’s worked with the Spanish-speaking New London community for 20 years, has started a group called JUNTOS, the Spanish word for “together.” Its dozen-odd members are long-time psychologists and social workers, all aware of the gaping hole in Latino access to care. Members have served the city’s fastest growing immigrant population — the latest census showed the city was 20 percent Hispanic — through a range of agencies from DMR (Department of Mental Retardation) and DCF (Department of Children and Families) to private practice.
“Hey, we need to grow and we need to provide better services,” said Melendez-Cooper in a recent interview with a trio of JUNTOS members at his clinic, where a majority of clients are on state aid or uninsured, and roughly one third are Hispanic. He convened the group, then let the group’s own synergy carry itself forward.
In an early needs study, JUNTOS members found those with severe mental illness who needed fulltime care were finding live-in facilities, but many others who might be living quietly with depression, stress or anxiety weren’t getting help.
At CHC, psychologist Gary Freudenthal (pictured above at left) saw “a lot of anxiety-ridden people” visiting primary care doctors as much as once a day. “They expect their physician to be their everything.” For fear of stigma or because they weren’t aware of services, these patients hadn’t made the connection with mental health help. JUNTOS folks thought about how to get people to feel comfortable addressing what’s going on in their minds as well as bodies.
At CHC, this means offering classes — stress management, time management and group therapy — in Spanish, so people can speak unencumbered by linguistic barriers. The clinic’s expanding the number of bilingual providers to facilitate these efforts.
At JUNTOS meetings, conversations about mental health care quickly turn into wider discussions about “psycho-social education,” explained Maritza Bourassa (pictured above at right), a social worker who recently left private practice to join CHC. She stressed the need for Spanish-language, “culturally sensitive” outreach on diabetes, teen pregnancy and smoking.
One result of JUNTOS brainstorming along those lines: A forum held at a local school, where people who might be wary of sterile hospitals got the chance to wander in and chat with a doctor in an informal setting. Another outcome: Forms assessing ADHD (Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder) in schoolchildren will be translated to Spanish to secure parent input.
JUNTOS is still in its initial stages, but members are optimistic that more will grow from the much-needed dialogue. Melendez-Cooper sees the group as part of a larger effort to restore what immigrants lose when they leave their countries: “their status, their language, and their network” of contacts and people to turn to for help. “You lose your network, you lose everything — you have to replace that network,” he said.
