In battling with exclusion and discrimination, I think it is important to recognize the historical nature and scale of exclusion. Much of the language and imagery which intertwines with mental illness has its roots in the idea of demonic possession or evil spirits. Some of this still lingers today in public perceptions and therefore public policy. Various cultures and groups depend on folk beliefs for knowledge of mental illness which is also reflected in core beliefs. If an individual cannot understand mental illness they cannot understand an individual with it. To me inclusion involves sharing the experience and it involves interaction and communication.

Although 1 in 5 may experience a mental illness in their lifetime a large portion of society will never feel or experience mental illness personally. It is overlooked or not imagined that illness is part of the human experience. Even the strong and healthy eventually succumb to the ravages of time. Instead of “that can never be me” it needs to be recognized that “it could be me” and “will be me”. I’m not sure how you enforce empathy but to me it is the basis of inclusion. To recognize difference is easy but to acknowledge similarities takes mindful work and it is a process.

It becomes difficult to include when exclusion is a means of psychological safety. People are prone to disengage and disavow what is a threatening possibility in themselves. Exclusion is a deep rooted and timeless function of individuals and societies. Incarceration and hospitalization can and have been forms of exclusion for those who are different, disturbing or difficult. Individuals with mental health difficulties are often unable or unwilling to conform due to symptoms. Unfortunately, it is the still suffering and or untreated by which those who are identified or self-identify are measured. The gifts and unique attributes individuals with mental illness posses are sometimes lost in the telling of only part of the story. More people are aware that Vincent van Gogh cut his ear off than have browsed his significant contribution to the world of art.

If I mention to someone with no experience outside of myth and movies that I have bi-polar disorder, often I am measured and treated as the imagery that occupies the observers mind. With mental illness a point in time or episode of illness seems to define the individual. Gifts or skills take a back seat in identity and dignity is undermined by the perception that a person is an illness. Mental illness is often viewed as a permanent flaw and shrouded in risk. On a personal level it is easier and safer to discount or devalue these individuals than it is to accept or foster diversity. The consequences then become systemic and societal.

“I simply represented a normal part of diversity in the spectrum of differentness in our community.”  Norman Kunc (The Other Side of Therapy: Disability, Normalcy and the Tyranny of Rehabilitation)

We sold our chicken coop not long ago. My wife mentioned that the yard looks better without it. I told her it was a painful reminder of my recent mania and psychosis. She said to look at it more positively. “Not many in London have experienced poultry as you have.”

For some reason London doesn’t allow backyard birds. I was certifiably certain the bylaw was about to change when I purchased my birds. In my mania I ended up with five ducks and ten chickens. That’s a slight exaggeration as one of the chickens was actually a rooster. In hindsight I think he was my undoing.

The first month I thought I had lucked out and had a rooster without the ability to crow. It was a delusion. He was however the most beautiful bird I have ever owned. When I picked him up from another Londoner and brought him home I opened the cardboard box and he flew straight to the top of our aluminum shed. My first thought was how to get him down in broad daylight but then, I just watched him.

We had sod in our backyard before all this but with rains my free range flock quickly turned the backyard into a mud-hole. It was too muddy for the chickens and soon they were living on our elevated deck in full view of the neighbourhood. The bylaw enforcement officer seemed quite intrigued with the five that were Jersey Giants but less so than the rooster.

I was warned several times but my seven white rabbits were basically feral at that point. My neighbours don’t speak to me but I cant wait to ask them if they thought they had lost their minds when they kept seeing white rabbits. I found the rabbits a home about 80 bucks too late but I can still hear flapping wings and the knock of a meat cleaver my buddy used to dispatch the ducks. I didn’t see it but I think the effect was about the same.

Now our food scraps go in the garbage and I have no fresh eggs to share but I did not surrender. I now have three Eastern Cottontail rabbits to eat the complaining neighbour’s rosebush. I also own several Canada Geese, at least four Mallard Ducks, a pair of pigeons, about a dozen Morning Doves, some swallows, half a dozen Goldfinches and flocks of Starlings and sparrows. We live in a new subdivision and there are two huge mud puddles right across the street. I walk over there once a week and spread cracked corn. Location, location, location.