How Systemic Racism Impacts Student Mental Health

The research is clear: Racial discrimination is detrimental to youth mental health (Priest et al., 2013; Schouler-Ocak et al., 2021). But what if the American school system was founded upon an infrastructure that reinforces racial inequality?

Sociologist Eve L. Ewing, author of Original Sins, explores the racial hierarchy that is rooted in the American education system and encourages readers to co-create a renewed vision for what education can be: a system that supports the mental health of all students.

Ewing shared with me the story behind her book and her inspiration for a brighter future for American education.

Heather Rose Artushin: Your recent book, Original Sins, explores how American schools have helped build and reinforce an infrastructure of racial inequality. Please share a bit about the racial hierarchy that is rooted in the American education system and what readers should know about the ways our educational system perpetuates systemic racism.

Eve Ewing: The United States has very specific origins defined by the unique intersection of two forms of violence: the institution of chattel slavery and the mass killing and dispossession of the people indigenous to this land. In order for people to abide by these structures in a republic that defines itself as being the “land of the free,” where all men are created equal, requires a kind of mental gymnastics to reconcile a pretty obvious self-contradiction. That’s where schools come in: Historically, and into the present, systems of schooling have normalized the idea that Black and Native youth are inherently less intelligent, that they require very strict forms of discipline and punishment, and that they should be relegated to economically subservient roles—all in service of making that violence feel acceptable and normal.

HRA: Research is clear that experiencing racism is detrimental to a person’s mental health and well-being. How do you suppose the systemic racism embedded in our education system impacts the mental health of young people in America?

EE: This is certainly an important question, as many experts argue that we’re in the midst of a youth mental health crisis. Some research has suggested an association between experiences of racial discrimination and outcomes such as depression, anxiety, loneliness, and other forms of emotional and psychological distress. And then, we have to ask whether students of color have equal access to the resources that would help them address those needs—quality health insurance, for example, or schools that have enough counselors and social workers. For instance, in Chicago, where I live, about 90 percent of public school students are students of color. Last year, it was estimated that we have about one-third the number of social workers we would need to adequately meet the needs of our student body. So this is a form of inequity that interacts with other forms of inequity.

HRA: This is a timely book, as many drastic changes are being made at the time of this writing in the U.S. government, particularly related to diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and the Department of Education. How do the themes in your book speak to present times? What can lawmakers today learn by looking to the past?

EE: One of the arguments I make is that systems of schooling are, in all eras, deployed by people in power to meet the needs of the powerful. We saw this at the beginning of the 20th century when schools were being used to try to assimilate new arrivals from Eastern and Southern Europe, we saw this at the end of the Civil War when schooling was used to try to discourage formerly enslaved Black people from rising up against their former enslavers, and we saw this when Native children were taken from their families and sent to boarding schools in order to suppress resistance—government leaders even referred to the teachers who ran these schools as an “Army.”

Today, we are seeing efforts to turn schools into places that discourage critical thinking, discourage any critical analysis of power or the acknowledgement of the many kinds of people who make up our society—trans people, queer people, immigrants, Muslim people, people of color, and anyone who could be seen as threatening the status quo. Lawmakers today need to study the lessons of our nation’s violent past and ask themselves where they want to sit in the justice scales of history. But, more importantly, average people need to hold lawmakers accountable for acquiescing to authoritarianism and also understand the collective power we hold to resist it.

HRA: The amount of in-depth research, personal reflection, and thoughtfulness that you poured into the writing of this powerful book is clear. How did the idea for this book come to be, and what was the process of writing it like for you?

EE: I have been teaching various classes on race and education for a decade, and I always begin the course by talking about what schooling has meant in the lives of Black and Native peoples—the promise and the contradiction of the notion of schooling. Over time, I came to call this part of my syllabus “original sins.” Every year, I would look for new assemblages of texts to assign to help my students explore these ideas. Eventually, I realized I ought to write my own.

HRA: You write, “What would it look like for schooling spaces to invite joyful, meaningful, purposeful labor, coupled with ample rest? … could they be models of an ethical relationship to work, preparing young people to build something different in years to come?” How do you hope your book inspires readers to forge a more compassionate and equitable vision for education? Share a bit about the braiding metaphor you end the book with and how it offers a powerful visual for the process of teaching and learning together.

EE: As I have been engaging with people in conversation about the book, I have gotten into the habit of asking them to consider three questions. Firstly, what are the things that you believe are absolutely critical for the young people in your life to learn? This might be anything from how to balance a household budget to how to cook cherished family recipes to important cultural knowledge that is central to your heritage. Secondly, what can you do to make sure this learning is happening? Thirdly, who can you do it with—how can this be collective work? I hope that these questions put us in a place to not only be reactive to the things we don’t want to see in our schools but to also be visionary and creative in forging the kind of loving education that all young people deserve. Braiding, to me, is a metaphor that represents tenderness, patience, care, responding to the person in front of you, tradition, and love.

HRA: What do you hope readers take away from spending time with your book?

EE: I hope that they come away with a clear-eyed understanding of American history, the courage to accept that history, and a sense of inspiration to seize their own role in shaping a future where all young people are nourished and celebrated for their brilliance.