Time to get serious about addressing mental illness

Time to get serious about addressing mental illness

For a couple of years in college I drove a wrecked Hyundai Accent my dad purchased for a couple hundred dollars. It wasn't my daily driver, but as a college commuter the ugly little car got much better gas mileage than the Mustang I cherished at the time. Other than the inevitable embarrassment of my friends catching me in the little compact car, there was only one "major" thing wrong with it: A music CD was stuck in the radio. To make things worse, it wasn't even my CD; it came with the car.

I spent hundreds of hours driving back and forth to school in that car, and let's just say I've never been a fan of pop music. It gave me a whole new appreciation for the "same old song and dance" saying.

I thought about that Thursday morning when reading an article in The Sun about county jails becoming a dumping ground for people with mental illness.

What struck me most was a quote from Lawrence County Sheriff Jeff Yates.

"You know, they haven't committed a crime, but you can't let them go," Yates told Sun reporter Neal Embry. "There's not lots of help. We're hurting for help."

It's a quote I've read time and again from sheriffs and jail administrators unfairly tasked with handling the state's mental illness population because the state chooses to ignore it.

It's no secret that Arkansas is among the worst states in the country in its efforts to address mental health treatment. In fact, the National Alliance on Mental Illness ranked Arkansas last on its mental health "score card," which used several factors to determine the state's approach to addressing the epidemic.

Rather than finding solutions or alternatives to the obviously wrong practice of incarcerating people for being mentally ill, the state appears destined to make matters worse.

A state legislative committee recently took action to cut funding for one vital mental health program.

Earlier this month members of the Arkansas Legislative Council voted to cut funding for a program that provides an alternative to prison for 9-11 patients, violators whose mental illness is so severe that courts have determined prison is an inappropriate option.

"Where we stand today, the state has yanked the rug out from under them," state Sen. John Cooper, R-Jonesboro, said. "The state has broken faith with the service provider (Mid-South Health Systems). It is catastrophic."

Cooper said legislators were duped into passing the measure when they thought they were voting to send the item back to a committee.

Cooper said he and other legislators tried to expunge the vote once they realized what happened, but that effort failed.

State Rep. Scott Baltz, D-Pocahontas, told The Sun the effort likely failed because Gov. Asa Hutchinson was visiting with council members prior to the vote. Baltz said the program was the latest in a series of funding cuts pushed by Hutchinson to deliver on campaign promises to reduce taxes.

Ruth Allison Dover, chief operating officer for Mid-South, summed it up far better than I can when talking to a Sun reporter.

"If we were a carpenter, then they took away our hammer today," Dover said.

That early October council vote could have a drastic effect, which likely will lead to county jails, yet again, shouldering the burden of handling the state's population of people living with mental illness.

As a state, we should be ashamed of our leaders' handling of mental health issues. For too long, lawmakers have passed the buck to local agencies neither trained nor equipped to treat mental illness. Sure, jail administrators can ensure mental health patients are receiving non-narcotic medications while in custody, but the vast majority of these individuals don't belong behind bars in the first place.

There's a long-held stigma attached to mental illness, and county jails keep the afflicted out of sight and out of mind. Unfortunately, that practice will continue until legislators are motivated to fund solutions rather than pass the buck. On their part, I see no change of heart on the horizon.

So, I guess we're going to have to listen to that same old, worn out song a little while longer.

Waylon Harris, managing editor of The Sun, can be contacted at 935-5525, Ext. 244, or wharris@jonesborosun.com.