At UNC, we enjoy thinking of ourselves as as a tight-knit community, one where every Tar Heel belongs to the same big, happy family.
Sometimes, this attitude becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy. But, in truth, it’s still very easy to feel entirely alone at a school the size of UNC.
This week, we’re taking a look back at the 1995 shooting that left two dead on Henderson Street. There’s little new we can say about the circumstances that led Wendell Williamson to procure a semi-automatic weapon and then unload it into innocent passers-by.
But it is possible — and necessary, we’d argue — to learn something from the way his illness was handled by those close to him and the conditions under which the shooting occurred.
Lapses and discontinuities in Williamson’s psychiatric care seem to be partly to blame. More comprehensively, however, we are reminded that we must continue to acknowledge that the value placed on competitiveness and independence at UNC does few favors for students’ emotional well-being.
The consequences of failing to take these aspects of campus culture into account are rarely as severe as death, but they shouldn’t have to be for us to confront them.
UNC’s counseling and psychiatric resources are already stretched thin, a casualty of being a large public institution beholden to a stingy legislature.
But regardless of the robustness of other professional resources, it remains the responsibility of students, faculty, and other members of the campus community to promote a general attitude toward mental health that encourages and rewards empathy. Here, the term ought to be defined as continual recognition of others’ humanity and the variety of obstacles to well-being that might arise within a community as large as UNC’s.
Many of us find UNC’s community to be more than adequately welcoming. But for a subset of students, especially those from marginalized backgrounds, securing feelings of belonging and inclusion isn’t as easy.