社区黑料

Explore

How Mental Health Care in Schools Became the Norm in Minnesota

While mental health care is not a given in public schools nationwide, Minnesota has made it a priority.

A student fidgets with pull cords on blinds while meeting with a mental health specialist at Heritage STEM Academy on Sept. 15 in Minneapolis. (Ellen Schmidt/MinnPost/CatchLight Local/Report for America)

Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for 社区黑料 Newsletter

This girl just can鈥檛 seem to settle. Like a bird in search of a worm, she flits from spot to spot in Yolonda Rogers鈥 office 鈥 a desk, a couple of chairs and a beanbag in the corner of a multipurpose room at , a Minneapolis public high school. Rogers, a mental health specialist tasked with providing mental health care to students in six of the district鈥檚 schools, is patient. She鈥檚 seen this kind of behavior before.

The girl keeps moving around the room, alighting briefly before taking out her cell phone and answering a call. When Rogers asks her a question, the girl鈥檚 answers are short and clipped, and her face is turned away. She doesn鈥檛 seem interested in talking, but it also seems like she doesn鈥檛 want to leave.

Then the girl spies a large plastic bag stuffed with snack-sized chips that Rogers keeps on a shelf near her desk. She pulls out a pack, and starts to eat. Still pacing the room, she begins talking about issues with her mother. Rogers listens, nods, asks a few more questions, and the girl finally sits down. Still not making eye contact, she tells Rogers she鈥檚 thinking about withdrawing from Heritage, how she鈥檚 gone to schools all over the state, how she鈥檚 been fighting with other students.

The conversation slowly warms up. Despite the rocky beginning, the girl somehow seems comfortable with Rogers, and their conversation becomes easy, even relaxed.

Later, Rogers explains that most of the students who come to her office have never seen a mental health therapist, and most of their parents are unlikely to have the time or financial resources to get them to a therapy appointment. Because Rogers, who holds a master鈥檚 degree in clinical social work, is at Heritage one day a week and is a known presence in the school, students feel comfortable just stopping by her office, and teachers and administrators know they can refer struggling students for a visit.

鈥淚t helps with their mental well-being to have me here,鈥 Rogers said of her students. 鈥淚鈥檓 part of the community, and many of them find it easy to talk to me about what鈥檚 on their mind.鈥

Making mental health treatment as easy as going to the school nurse is a key component of Minnesota鈥檚 decades-long goal of providing low- or no-cost mental health care to all public school students. In a state with a lamentable history of racial and economic inequality, this clear commitment to easy access to mental health care stands out.

In the wake of the global COVID pandemic, much attention has been paid to kids鈥 mental health, but children in the United States have struggled for decades trying to access counseling and therapy. In the past, children in Minnesota鈥檚 public schools largely got mental health care from school social workers or psychologists, but that approach had shortcomings, including staffing problems and budget limitations that meant kids who really needed to talk to someone about their mental health often had to wait for months.

In the early 2000s, in recognition of growing rates of mental illness among children, the state began expanding access to mental health care in public schools by contracting with outside agencies, bringing licensed mental health care providers into schools where they could become a regular part of the educational ecosystem. Supported by the state Legislature, the (MDE) and (DHS) approved funding for these efforts, from $4.7 million in 2008 to over $20 million today, and slowly the number of mental health providers in the state鈥檚 public schools began to grow.

Mark Sander, Hennepin County director of school mental health, has been involved in the effort since the beginning. 鈥淚f we go back to 2005,鈥 he said, 鈥渨e had therapists in five schools. Now, just in Hennepin County alone, we have 22 different agencies doing this work. There are over 230 therapists in over 220 schools just in Hennepin County serving about 7,000 students a year.鈥

This work hasn鈥檛 gone unnoticed. Kris Lofgren, DHS school behavioral health program coordinator, said that during the pandemic, Minnesota鈥檚 efforts to expand mental health care to public schools was highlighted in a U.S. Department of Education report.

鈥淚t brought national attention to what鈥檚 being done in the state,鈥 Lofgren said. 鈥淧eople figured out that we have been doing a lot of important work around bringing mental health services to where kids are. It identified Minnesota as a leader.鈥

Sander has witnessed this expansion 鈥 and the impact it has had on kids 鈥斅爁irst hand. He said he鈥檚 proud of Minnesota鈥檚 support for children鈥檚 mental health and grateful for the many advocates who鈥檝e made it possible. Easy access to free- and reduced-cost mental health care is not a given in public schools nationwide, but today it is available in 82% of Minnesota’s public school districts and in 61% of the state’s 2,661 public schools, a reality he does not take lightly.

鈥淚鈥檒l be honest,鈥 Sander said. 鈥淢innesota has crushed it.鈥

Part of the furniture

To Sander鈥檚 mind, the ideal school-based mental health provider wears a camouflage of sorts, blending into the background like part of the landscape of the regular school day. When kids have to leave school to see a therapist, he said, the experience can be much more intimidating, making mental health treatment feel onerous or even threatening.

鈥淥ne of the things that鈥檚 been really beautiful is when you bring these mental health services into the schools it doesn鈥檛 seem like a big deal,鈥 Sander said. When a therapist is based in school, kids and parents see them in the hallway or the lunchroom. They see kids interacting with their peers, observe behaviors and connect with teachers, he added. 鈥淭he therapist can then talk to a teacher or another adult in the building and really help integrate their work, saying, 鈥楾ommy is working on his anxiety and so if you see him starting to get a little bit anxious, just touch him on his shoulder. Nobody else needs to know, but it鈥檚 your thing.鈥欌

Take Rogers, for example. Students and staff flow in and out of her office, stopping to chat, grab a bag of chips, check in on their day, or to introduce a friend and refer them for services. When school-based therapists are easily accessible and available like this, Sander said, word starts to spread. 鈥淵outh feel comfortable coming to a therapist or a social worker and saying, 鈥楬ey: I鈥檝e got a concern,鈥 or, 鈥業鈥檝e got a concern about my friend.鈥 We as a team can help figure out what鈥檚 the best place for them to start getting support.鈥

While going to therapy can be commonplace for kids in higher-income groups, many children from immigrant and refugee communities often have little or no background seeking mental health support. This is the case with students in many of the state鈥檚 public schools.

Jill Johnson, executive director of , a nonprofit provider of school-based mental health care in Minnesota schools, said that when therapists are located in a school, kids are highly likely to get care. 鈥淭here is a that says for kids from low-income families, if they need mental health care, there is only a 13% chance they will access services, but when mental health care is available in schools it is something like a 96% chance.鈥

Sander has seen that in action. 鈥淗alf of the students that are supported by school-based mental health in Hennepin County have never had mental health services before,鈥 he said. 鈥淥f those that are getting it for the first time, 40% have really significant mental health issues.鈥 This lack of access isn鈥檛 due to parental neglect, Sander added. 鈥淧arents want to get their kids the stuff they need. It was just that they couldn鈥檛 get them there or didn鈥檛 know how to make it happen. Having it in the school allows them to get their kids that support.鈥

There are many reasons why getting a kid to therapy, even when parents are on board, can be difficult. Sander recalled a meeting he and parent had several years ago with then-U.S. Sen. Al Franken. 鈥淭his parent said. 鈥業鈥檝e got a job and I was worried about losing my job because of having to take my young person to therapy,鈥 The fact that they could get that support at school was a game-changer. For the parent, it really lessened their own anxiety.鈥

Few and far between

While Minnesota鈥檚 commitment to providing mental health care to kids in public schools has received national praise, there are still some parts of Greater Minnesota where a scattered population and the limits of geography can make that access spotty at best.

Johnson, whose nonprofit supplies mental health providers to schools across the metro area, said she鈥檚 all-too familiar with the state鈥檚 rural/urban divide.

鈥淪chool-based mental health services look very different in St. Paul and Minneapolis vs. in rural Minnesota,鈥 she said. 鈥淚 know some districts in rural Minnesota where the whole district might share only one or two clinicians. It is different in Minneapolis or St. Paul, where we have a clinician in almost every school.”

In Grand Marais, two hours north of Duluth on Lake Superior鈥檚 North Shore, Lisa Sater works as an early childhood therapist and clinical supervisor for the . The district, which covers some 3,340 square miles, has about 430 kids from pre-school to 12th grade.

A couple of years ago, Sater, who has lived north of Brainerd since 1982, decided to fulfill her dream of living just about as far north as you can get when she and her husband decided to pull up stakes and move to Grand Marais. She鈥檇 been working as a child therapist for decades, employed as a school therapist through , a Willmar-based nonprofit providing in-home and school-based mental health services to children and families outside of the Twin Cities. Aware that her skills were in high demand, she reached out to Chris Lindholm, Cook County Public Schools superintendent.

鈥淚 emailed Chris and said, 鈥楥ould you use a mental health therapist in your school?鈥欌 Sater recalled. 鈥淗e said, immediately, 鈥榊es. Yes. We really need someone to come,鈥 My next email was to my boss. I said, 鈥榃ould you support me in moving my work to Grand Marais?鈥 He said, 鈥榊es. Of course.鈥欌

Sater understands it takes a certain type of person to want to live in Grand Marais. While the town 鈥斅爌opulation 1,352 鈥斅爄s nestled into an undeniably beautiful harbor on a majestic lake, the isolation that makes it precious can also be a source of struggle when a kid is in need of mental health care.

鈥淚t is very hard for parents to come in and to therapy with their kids,鈥 Sater said. 鈥淎bout 30% of our student population are Native American. Some go to school on the reservation in Grand Portage. It is a good school, but some kids from there also come here.鈥 The trip from Grand Portage to Grand Marais is about 35 miles one way, and parents often have a hard time making it to school, let alone to town for a visit with a therapist.

鈥淎 lot of people can鈥檛 afford the gas,鈥 Sater said. 鈥淭here is limited public transportation. That鈥檚 one of the problems. Another one is a lot of people have to work more than one job. It is an expensive place to live.鈥

When he moved to town in July 2021, Lindholm described what felt like a children鈥檚 mental health desert. 鈥淚 saw a huge need here for children鈥檚 mental health services. There were two providers in the whole county and not near enough horsepower. Basically, mental health services in all of Cook county in general were drastically lacking. The county itself called it out as a big problem.鈥

Though they are far removed from the pressures of city living, Lindholm said that kids in his district struggle with many of the same issues as their urban counterparts. 鈥淥ver half of our kids are in poverty, there are lots of visible mental health struggles. Teachers tell me the mental health needs are incredible. In 2022, for instance, nearly half of our junior class was being treated for mental health of some kind.鈥

Sater鈥檚 email felt like an amazing boon, Lindholm said. The need for her services was clearly there, even in his 鈥渢iny鈥 district. 鈥淪he went to a full caseload in the county almost immediately.鈥 The district has enough funding to employ a second school-based therapist, and聽 it聽 has posted the position for two years with no takers.

What makes the region beautiful also makes it a hard sell. 鈥淚t is two hours to everything. A trip to the eye doctor is a full-day trip.鈥

At the state Capitol, there have been efforts to make providing mental health services to kids in Greater Minnesota more appealing, like providing loan forgiveness and tuition support to mental health providers who agree to practice in rural areas.

Unless, like Sater, another provider drops from the sky, Lindholm fears that it will always be a struggle to fully attend to the mental聽 health of all聽 students.

All day every day

At in St. Paul, mental health care is integrated into nearly every aspect of the school. In June, members of Como鈥檚 mental health team gathered for an end-of-year wrap-up meeting, led by Christy McCoy, one of five of the school鈥檚 social workers. The group, made up of social workers, an intern, therapists and a psychologist, described the many ways they work to seamlessly wrap their services into the daily lives of students, teachers and administrators.

McCoy talked about her work co-facilitating a group of male students who鈥檇 been chronically absent from class, but actually spending time in the school building. 鈥淚 thought,鈥 she said, 鈥溾楲et鈥檚 build this community to not just focus on academics, but let鈥檚 get to some of the root causes of why they鈥檙e not coming to class.鈥欌 The group provides mental health support for the students聽 in a way that feels comfortable to them.

鈥淲e talk about everything in there,鈥 McCoy said. 鈥淲e talk about culture. We talk about our strengths, how to use those strengths to empower us and to channel those strengths to help us with things like advocacy, like how do we develop some of those social skills to be able to articulate what we need, what we want.鈥

That approach works with group members, McCoy said, who have jumped on board with a surprising enthusiasm. 鈥淭hey said they wanted to have a group next year,鈥 McCoy told her colleagues. 鈥淭hey want to do some community service. They want to give back. They want to be able to come into the classrooms and share about why it is important to take care of yourself. These are all ideas focused on mental health, and these are all ideas they generated.鈥

Back at Heritage STEM Academy, Rogers鈥 approach to mental health treatment also feels student-led. She always tries to start her sessions on comfortable footing. 鈥淚 first start getting to know the student,鈥 she said. 鈥淚 explain my role and say, 鈥業鈥檓 here to support you as a student. We can talk about mental health. We can talk about life. For many students it is helpful that I am African American. I also tell them I am a Minneapolis Public School alumni. It speaks to my cultural context, helps them open up.鈥

This first appeared on and is republished here under a .

Did you use this article in your work?

We鈥檇 love to hear how 社区黑料鈥檚 reporting is helping educators, researchers, and policymakers.

Republish This Article

We want our stories to be shared as widely as possible 鈥 for free.

Please view 社区黑料's republishing terms.





On 社区黑料 Today