The rustling marsh grass parts as Courtney Fitzgerald trudges through the wetland, her boots sinking into the mucky soil. She pauses to survey the open expanse of prairie, dried wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. This slice of nature, the Lake Bluff Open Lands in suburban Chicago, has become her sanctuary, calming the waves of climate anxiety that have washed over her since she learned more about policies, pollution, and conservation in an Advanced Placement environmental science course.
Throughout high school, Fitzgerald, currently a freshman at Northwestern University, devoted her Sundays to this conservation area, collecting seeds, helping with controlled burns, and managing the organization’s Instagram page to rally volunteers. “It’s hard, because I’m just one person,” she says. “I can’t decontaminate all the water in the world: That’s impossible. And that kind of just makes me sad.” But in this quiet refuge, Fitzgerald finds solace in simply doing something. She concedes that what she is doing now will not be enough to save the future, but says, “I find comfort in knowing that I’m doing something and I’m getting other people to do something about it.”
Fitzgerald’s experience grappling with anxiety over climate change and her determination to take local action is a snapshot of the larger mental health crisis affecting today’s youth. In recent years, reports of challenges such as anxiety, depression, and even suicide among young people have skyrocketed, leaving families and communities grasping for ways to support the next generation. Young people today are grappling with a complex array of pressures, and for many, the weight of the world’s problems is the heaviest burden to bear.
While Catholic parents and parishes are concerned about passing on the faith to the next generation, their children are struggling with profound issues. Young people are confronted with a relentless stream of existential threats, from climate change to immigration and LGBTQ+ rights, which are not abstract concepts but deeply personal and profoundly impactful, shaping the way young people see themselves, their communities, and their future. But many young Catholics are already embodying their beliefs by boldly confronting both mental health struggles and the pursuit of justice head-on, galvanized by spiritual resilience in their quest for a better world.
Today’s youth are demonstrating remarkable resilience and determination. Like Fitzgerald, they are not content to sit back and watch the world crash down around them. Instead, they are standing up and taking action. At the intersection of mental health concerns and social justice issues, you’ll find a kid turning off the GPS and making their own way, driven by faith, community, and resilience in the face of adversity.
Young leaders
Young adults today are seeking to find a way to act—to do something—in the face of these big, overwhelming concerns, says Kayla Jacobs, program manager for youth mobilization at Catholic Climate Covenant, a national nonprofit based in Washington, D.C. Jacobs builds regional teams of high school students via Zoom, training them to be climate leaders in the church, teaching them to build community, and inspiring them to take action. Jacobs says that every single application for the program touches on climate anxiety, with most applicants indicating that they want to make an impact but don’t know how.
Diana Marin, program manager for young adult mobilization at Catholic Climate Covenant, echoes Jacobs’ observations, pointing to a 2021 study by the Lancet, which found that 84 percent of children and young adults ages 16 to 25 are at least moderately worried about climate change. This anxiety and the questions it creates can be very motivating, says Marin, explaining that the young adults she works with take action in many ways—in their studies, their work, and their spirituality. One of the programs she facilitates, Common Home Corps, trains young adults to advocate for climate action within their dioceses and parishes.
For Fitzgerald, who was on the Catholic Climate Covenant leadership team for the Catholic Youth Climate Summit in 2023 and 2024, seeing transparency, action, and deadlines from the church—specifically the Archdiocese of Chicago—is crucial. “We have to care for the creation that [God] set before us,” she says. She is eager to be a part of even broader change; she is looking forward to voting in her first election this fall and studying environmental policy at university. She hopes to one day work for the United Nations.
Despite the overwhelming nature of the climate crisis, Jacobs emphasizes the theological virtue of hope, explaining, “Because we have faith, we can have hope that as a community, we can address these deep world issues together.”
Mental health advocates
While the climate crisis is a global issue that affects us all, other social justice challenges may seem more immediate to young people. The complex and often deeply personal impact of immigration policies and practices on families and communities is another source of concern for today’s youth.
For Lorena Reyes (name changed to protect her and her family), a recent graduate of Loyola University Chicago, the issue of immigration is very real. Growing up in a mixed-status family as a U.S. citizen with undocumented parents, Reyes witnessed firsthand the fear and uncertainty that come with navigating a complex and often hostile immigration system. Although her family was open, often sharing stories over Sunday dinner, her parents also hid some of the scarier details—like her father’s detainment and near deportation—from her and her brother.
According to population estimates based on the 2022 census and published by the Office of Homeland Security Statistics in April 2024, nearly 11 million undocumented immigrants reside in the United States. Many of these individuals have children who are U.S. citizens. The constant fear of deportation and family separation takes a heavy toll on the mental health of these young people. Reyes found herself constantly code-switching—adjusting her behaviors and language to fit into different environments. “Up to this day, I really see myself as in between a lot of things, so not fully identifying 100 percent to one thing,” she says.
Reyes requested therapy while she was in high school but met with opposition at home. She believes it was based on the stigma around mental health and her parents’ worries that she was hiding something, which only added to her stress. Eventually, her parents did agree, and Reyes says the support was invaluable, giving her a foundation for self-reflection, a tool she had previously equated to self-criticism. Today, she still benefits from both professional therapy and spiritual exploration as she works on discovering her full identity and finding her purpose.
Over the years, Reyes has volunteered for nonprofit organizations, worked for immigration lawyers, and worked in congressional offices. She is currently studying for the LSAT and is determined to study immigration law and become an attorney. “I definitely feel like my experiences growing up were a big reason why I wanted to get into the legal field,” she says. “I wanted to prevent another child from experiencing the trauma that comes with law enforcement or separation of family or just immigration in general.” She adds that the opportunity to continue her education and know her community is rooting for her fills her with gratitude. Through her work and her advocacy, she hopes to create a more just and compassionate immigration system, one that upholds the dignity and humanity of all people, regardless of their legal status.
While therapy can be beneficial for young people struggling with mental health issues related to immigration and other social justice concerns, traditional in-person sessions may not always be accessible or comfortable for everyone. CatholicPsych Institute, a mental health organization that integrates faith and psychology, is working to bridge this gap through its innovative online mentorship program, Integrated Daily Dialogic Mentorship (IDDM).
Sean Faulkner, who earned a master’s degree in counseling and has worked as a mental health professional for nearly a decade, currently serves as a mentor and training director for the program. This innovative therapy allows individuals to access mental health support from trained mentors, exchange messages at their convenience using Voxer (a voice-recorded messaging app), and receive prompt, personalized responses.
Faulkner admits that it took some time to get used to not seeing clients face-to-face. “But what is gained is so much more,” he says. “The kind of progress that would often take well over a year to see people make in a weekly therapy session, I’ve now seen occur within a few months because of the regular engagement and consistency of it.”
By integrating Catholic teachings and values into the mentorship process, CatholicPsych aims to create a safe, supportive space to explore mental health concerns in the context of faith. Faulkner says that science and faith aren’t at odds, but actually often complement one another. “All of us are in need of trustworthy relationships where we can be more vulnerable and share what’s going on internally,” he says.
Webs of relationship
At St. Mark the Evangelist parish in Indianapolis, a group of Burmese Chin refugees recognizes this need for trustworthy relationships after fleeing their home country due to violence, political instability, and harsh religious persecution. In their new home, the joy of building a life in a welcoming community is often tempered by the ongoing stress and concern for loved ones left behind.
Sabina and John (whose last names are not included due to their young age) are recent graduates of St. Mark School and now high school freshmen. Both born in Burma, Sabina arrived in the United States as an infant, but John remembers his early years and the challenges his family faced to get here.
These typical teenagers have adapted well and are thriving in their school community, but they each acknowledge the pressure they sometimes feel to live up to their parents’ sacrifices. “They came here all the way from a different continent to provide for us a better future,” Sabina says. “You want to make your parents proud.”
Language barriers can also create challenges for Chin families, as the younger generation grows up speaking English while their parents and grandparents may struggle to communicate in their new language. Father John Hau Hawm Mang, an associate pastor who works closely with the parish’s Chin community, notes that this can make it difficult for parents and children to express their feelings and experiences to one another.
To help bridge this gap, St. Mark offers language classes and encourages families to celebrate their cultural traditions together. By creating opportunities for the different generations to connect and communicate, the parish hopes to foster a sense of understanding and shared history among the Chin community and long-time members of the parish and residents of the surrounding area.
Church support—or lack thereof
But what happens when a parish, or the Catholic Church as an institution, can’t or won’t help those who are struggling? This is a harsh reality for many LGBTQ+ Catholic youth.
For Ish Ruiz, an educator and theologian at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, California, the challenges faced by LGBTQ+ youth in Catholic schools are all too familiar. “My queer students have higher levels of anxiety, depression—some developed unhealthy eating habits and eating disorders. And some had suicidal ideation,” he says. He asserts this is particularly pointed for trans students and students of color.
Ruiz’s observations are echoed by a 2024 U.S. National Survey on the Mental Health of LGBTQ+ Young People by the Trevor Project, which found that 39 percent of LGBTQ+ young people seriously considered attempting suicide in the past year, including 46 percent of transgender and nonbinary young people. While LGBTQ+ youth of color reported higher rates of suicidal ideation than their white peers, the study also noted that LGBTQ+ young people living in accepting communities were 50 percent less likely to attempt suicide than those living in unaccepting communities.
Organizations such as Catholic Allies in Indianapolis, a grassroots group operating outside of the institutional church, are working to provide that support and acceptance starting at home. Cofounder and pediatrician Danielle Weise says that is possible to be both a Catholic and an ally; there is an overwhelmingly large community of people who feel the same way and are willing to show up.
Weise has seen anxiety and depression take their toll on her teenage patients, especially those who identify as LGBTQ+. “Kids live in this constant fear of, ‘Will I still be loved? Will I still be accepted?’ And trying to navigate adolescence with that hanging over your head is just absolutely unbearable,” she says, emphasizing that if open and accepting conversations happen at home beginning at a young age, the relief can be life-changing.
Christian Figueroa, a sophomore at Stanford University in Palo Alto, California, knows firsthand the conflict, isolation, and self-rejection LGBTQ+ Catholic youth can feel. After a suicide attempt in high school, finding acceptance was a transformative experience for him. “Having family—my parents, my siblings, my friends, my best friends, and the entire school, which was a Catholic, all boys school (ironically, they were very, very, very supportive)—I’m so grateful for that,” he says. However, he admits that it took him a while to realize that approval didn’t need to come from the Vatican for him to feel accepted and grow in his faith.
As a young political activist, Figueroa has devoted the foundation of his career to LGBTQ+ rights and mental health, working within the California political system to advance candidates who share his values—from school board members (who he says have a large influence over their LGBTQ+ students) to city council members and even the president of the United States.
For Figueroa, this work is positive reinforcement. “It helps me further accept who I am but also further live out my mission and my values as a Catholic and as a young person of the LGBTQ+ community,” he says.
Ruiz also acknowledges Figueroa’s point that it’s important for people not only to accept young LGBTQ+ students but also to work toward their flourishing. He says that, as a Catholic high school teacher, when the issues were ignored, his students were unable to grow as God intended. However, as soon as his school began creating mechanisms to address LGBTQ+ identities, the shift was potent—and nearly immediate. “Conversations about faith and spirituality were able to unfold and take place after that safe space was established,” he says.
In his book, LGBTQ+ Educators in Catholic Schools (Rowman & Littlefield), Ruiz, who identifies as a gay Catholic, challenges the idea that nothing can be done when it comes to official church teachings, advising that magisterial teachings on sexual orientation and gender identity are not ironclad and definitely not divine.
Trust in young people
While the experiences of Catholic LGBTQ+ youth and those impacted by immigration and climate change are undoubtedly challenging, not all young people feel overwhelmed by the weight of these issues. Mila Esposito, a high school senior in Columbus, Indiana, offers a different perspective. While she concedes to the everyday stress and anxiety experienced by many of her peers due to school, sports, and schedules, she believes some world issues can be distorted. “There are definitely big issues,” she says. “But I think that the media can blow them out of proportion sometimes.”
Despite this measured outlook, Esposito is deeply committed to making a difference in her community, a practice rooted in her upbringing and family lifestyle. She regularly volunteers at a local soup kitchen with her parish youth group, an experience she describes as profoundly fulfilling. She has also used her tech skills to create a website for Recovery Cafe, a local organization that supports individuals in recovery from addiction, homelessness, and other challenges.
James Holzhauer-Chuckas, executive director at United Catholic Youth Ministries (UCYM) in Chicago, believes empowering young people to take an active role in their faith communities is key to promoting mental health and well-being. He advocates for a new model of church leadership that involves co-leadership with young people, allowing them to develop valuable skills, find a sense of purpose, and navigate the challenges of growing up in a world filled with complex social justice issues and mental health concerns.
Holzhauer-Chuckas says that young people are practical in their approaches to change, thinking both big and small about how they can make an impact now and in the future as they consider vocations and jobs. Through initiatives such as UCYM, Holzhauer-Chuckas and his team aim to create a church that is more responsive to the needs and experiences of young people, empowering youth to shape their faith communities.
“We need to place our trust in young people at our leadership table,” Holzhauer-Chuckas says, recalling a recent conversation with his parish council about the importance of including youth voices in decision-making.
As the Catholic Church continues to navigate its role in supporting young people through these challenges, listening to youth voices and empowering them to take an active role in shaping their faith communities and beyond will be essential. By fostering a culture of co-leadership, providing mental health resources, creating safe spaces for dialogue and support, and initiating opportunities to be a part of efforts to make change, the church can help young people develop the tools they need to thrive.
This article also appears in the September 2024 issue of U.S. Catholic (Vol. 89, No. 9, pages 26-30). Click here to subscribe to the magazine.
Image: Unsplash/Sam Ladley
Add comment