JavaScript needs to be enabled to play Disclosure. Your goal is to survive year one as an assistant professor at a research university in Canada. If this wasn't enough of a challenge, you struggle with the stigma around balancing your mental health and being your authentic self. What should your students know; what should your colleagues know? This consumes more of your life than you wish. In this short vignette, you will face some of the everyday choices that are complicated by stigma as you wrestle with being the competent academic you know you are and disclosing your diagnosis. [[Continue|Welcome 101]] [[What's this all about?]] (set: $name to (prompt: "Welcome professor! What is your name?", "") ) You finally landed that coveted, tenure track career you sacrificed so much for. Fifteen years, a BA, an MA and a PhD later you've joined the ivory tower. Dr. $name! You still haven't gotten used to your new credentials. Maybe it'll grow on you. You're the first person in your family to go this far so while it seems like an accomplishment you also don't quite know how to process it all. This is common for "first generation" academics. The university culture is not exactly something you were born into. Despite all your education, you still have so many questions; "How does one ''be'' a professor?" ranks most important right now. These thoughts cloud your mind as you enter your first undergraduate class - as the course instructor! You've been a teaching assistant before but the 40 students staring back at you today, they're your's now. They've come to learn from ''you'', Dr. $name, the "expert". You think to yourself, //I'll try my best not to screw this but it's just a matter of time...// [[Say nothing and proceed to set up your lecture slides]] [[Smile at the class]] [[Get the hell out of here]] You ignore the students tapping way on their phones, tablets and laptops and head to the computer terminal at the front of the class, way on the other side of the room. //Why do they put them so far away from the door?// //So far so good. No need to enage anyone yet - there's still 5 minutes before class starts. // This strategy is one you've seen countless of your own professors use. Is it creating that sense of suspesnse you always felt when they settled themselves at the podium, giving a quick last minute look over their notes? Hiding your gaze in your own files, you wonder how many of your professors suffered from anxiety like you do. //Is this a good time to - maybe - tell them?// No one ever talked about this as part your training. In fact, no one ever talked about what to do when you actually got in front of a class. There's no textbook on mental health for professors. If there was, you think it would only be talked about under hushed tones. Mental heath among faculty is one the largest elephants in the... classroom. No one seems to want to talk about it. The hands on the clock hanging on the back wall read 10:00. It's time to [[start class]]. You look in the general direction of the students, seated in those uncomfortable chairs attached by a creaky hinge to a small table in front of them. Everyone is tapping away on their phones, tablets and laptops and didn't really notice you enter. So, you stop smiling and proceed to the computer terminal across the front of the class to get your notes ready. //So far so good. No need to enage anyone yet - there's still 5 minutes before class starts. // You happen to catch the attention of 2 or 3 students and flash them a friendly welcoming smile. They reciporcate. You want to make sure your students like you - you hope they do when things start to go off the rails. As you stand in front of the class, you wonder how many of your own professors suffered from deblitating anxiety and depression like you do. No one ever talked about this as part your training. In fact. There's no textbook on mental health for professors. If there was, you think it would only be talked about under hushed tones. Mental heath among faculty is one the largest elephants in the... classroom. //No one seems to want to talk about it.// The hands on the clock hanging on the back wall read 10:00. It's time to [[start class]]. As you stand at the threshold of the classroom, you take a peak inside and see a large mass of young adults, probably close to 20 years younger than you. Everyone is tapping away on their phones, tablets and laptops and didn't really notice you. A wave of panic overtakes you and your legs tremble, your breath grows weaker and you get this strong urge to pee. This does not bode well for day 1. Peeing your pants in front of your students would be the most embrassing thing ever to happen to a new professor - everyone on campus would hear about. There's really no choice to make as you slowly back away from the door into the hallway. You need to get away from here. You passed a bathroom on your way to the class and backtrack to find it. When you get there the sensation wanes and you no longer feel the need. Thank God. But what if comes back the moment you step back in the classroom? You look at your watch and notice it's 10:04. The class has already started. //I can't [[do this.|Welcome 101]].//"Welcome everyone!" you begin in a loud voice designed to reach the back of the classroom. Some look up from their phones. Others put them away. A few verbally respond and you hear some ''good morning'''s spatter around the room. Before continuing, you ask yourself, //Is this a good time to tell them?// Slowly, they seem to come around and start to give your their attention. //No... Maybe later...// Instead you belt out, "Welcome to Linguistics 1000. My name is Dr. $name and I'm your course instructor." You give them a description of the course, a slightly enhanced version from the one in the course catalogue they would have used to register back in the summer. "OK, before we get into the material for today, I figured we would go around the room and just say hello, introduce ourselves." As you say this you remember, as a student, how much you hated the first day of class introductions. You still do but what other options are there. You've been talking long enough already and need to divert some of this awkward attention you've been getting. It's starting to feel// that way// again. Your breath falls short as you get out a few words, "Obviously, by the way I sound, you can tell I'm not from around here." A low level of laughter spreads through the class. Laughter - that's a good thing. You're good at being funny. "I arrived here from New York City about a month ago." Some eyebrows raise in curiosity. Now you've piqued their interest. "And I got to tell you, I'm facing a bit of culture shock," that gets another round of laughs. Then they look back at you, waiting for you to regale them with some unique experience you had in their home city. [[Give them an outsider's perspective]] [[Continue with the introductions]]"Uh, ya. Culture shock." Forty sets of eyes and ears wait for you to continue. Your mind races for something to say. "One day I was looking out my apartment window..." you pause as your chest tightens. "...packing my things...uh, watching traffic on the, uh, the Brooklyn Bridge." Your pitch trembles. "The next day I was standing at the top of Signal Hill looking at two whales rolling in the Atlantic Ocean," you struggle but finish. Pulling out the chair under the desk at the front of the room you sit down before your legs give out. "I hope you don't mind if I sit," you ask no one in particular. //Sit? Can professors sit down on the job? // //This is not going well//. [[Continue|Continue with the introductions]] You don't have the confidence to say anything insightful at this point so you punt. "OK, let's start over here on this side and go around the room." A young woman sitting in the first seat looks a bit startled. And rightfully so. She was probably anticipating another minute to get her own introduction sorted out. But you need to recover. With thoughts of sabotage and failure swirling around in your head, the first student reluctantly introduces herself; "Hi, I'm Chloe," she says in a quiet voice, shrugging her shoulders. You notice she's a bit shy herself. [[Empathize]] [[Keep it professional]] And now you feel that familiar feeling. Full on panic is about to take over. "Ok, so that's a good place to stop for the first day. We'll get into the lecture material next day." You get up from your chair. //I feel like an idiot for sitting down this whole time.// The students look around, confused. "That's it?" you hear one in the front seat say to another. //That was a waste of time. But isn't that's what day one is supposed to be like? Students just want to get to know the professor, figure out what the course is about and learn about how they'll be graded. Right?// You made it through but barely. You didn't disclose your own struggles with anxiety but maybe that's for the better. You pick up your notes and grab your laptop computer. As you pause at the door and look back at the empty desks you realize you have a new question to grapple with, //If I can just tell them what's wrong with me. Would it really help?// [[Continue|Conversation with Department Head]] "Hi Chloe! What other linguistics classes have you taken?" you ask hoping this might break the ice a bit more. "Just this one." she says, more nervously than before. It's clear that's all she wants to contribute at this time so you say, "Awesome. Thanks for joining us" and move along to the next student. Each of the students take their turn, some more talkative than others. This procedure did what you hoped it would - take the pressure off of you. But as the last student introduces himself you realize that this is the end. You have to start talking again and the spotlight will be back on you. [[Continue|Ending 1]]You always knew you wanted to be that kind of teacher/professor that gave time and consideration to students that struggled to be comfortable in the classroom. This student, Chloe, seems to fit that description. After saying her name, she doesn't say anything else. "Hi Chloe! I'm happy your here. Do you have any hobbies?" you ask hoping this might break the ice a bit more. "Sewing, " she says with a smile. It's clear that's all she wants to contribute at this time so you say, "Awesome" and move along to the next student. Each of the students take their turn, some more talkative than others. This procedure did what you hoped it would - take the pressure off of you. But as the last student introduces himself you realize that this is the end. You have to start talking again and the spotlight will be back on you. [[Continue|Ending 1]]Now, you're in the office of your department head confiding in her about what just happened in your class. "Oh dear, " she says, concerned. "The first year can be challenging." "I don't know if it's a first year thing... It's..." you pause. //I have a diagnosis. It shouldn't be this difficult to be open about it. // But it is. [[What's this all about?]]This short demo of //“Disclosure: a narrative-based adventure about stigma, mental health, and accommodation in a neoliberal workplace”//was submitted as part of Assignment 4 - Aesthetic Representation Knowledge Exchange for HLTH 5110: Mental Health and Addictions Services and Systems, a course in the Certificate Program in Mental Health and Addictions at at Dalhousie University. It was created by Paul De Decker in the Winter of 2024.