There’s been a fundamental shift in how we define adulthood—and at what pace it occurs. PT’s authors consider how a once iron-clad construct is now up for grabs—and what it means for young people’s mental health today. 
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Updated March 2, 2025 Reviewed by Gary Drevitch
I teach primarily at the university level and almost exclusively grim and emotive subject matter. Topics of my Masters-level modules cover disaster impacts, violent conflict, consequences of human-caused climate change, and humanitarian responses. The goal is for students to comprehend the reality, without the presentation leading to adverse mental health impacts.
As would be expected, a balance must be sought, and hopefully achieved, between honestly presenting reality and supporting students’ (and staff’s) mental health and well-being. Directly explaining that some students in the classroom might be or might have been refugees or ex-combatants can help, as can drawing on their experiences, if they agree they can do so without re-traumatising them.
I explicitly state that I presume that all females and many, if not all, males in the class have survived several forms of assault and harassment. We have all gone through one of the worst global disasters in living memory: the COVID-19 pandemic. The chances are high that, in any given class, at least one student lost someone close to them.
I aim to apply mental health first aid training and experience, preventively and responsively, within the classroom’s content and teaching techniques.
Avoiding all problems seems infeasible. One student became upset due to the perspective that terrorists include certain groups who had massacred civilians. The student did not object to the unconditional statement that one terrorist is the Norwegian who, in 2011, detonated a car bomb in Oslo’s city centre, killing 8, and then travelled to the island of Utøya to massacre dozens of others.
Another student became visibly agitated during a talk on forced migration due to human-caused climate change. Some research suggests that the situation may not be as bad as some media promote, with options available to avert detrimental consequences. The student would not engage with the wide range of situations or possibilities to act in order to help affected people.
“Right” and “wrong” is one issue. Another is mental distress or comfort in an educational environment. Some students openly share detailed, horrific episodes from their life stories, while others with similar tragedies remain silent. Either choice, and everything in between, is fine. Some of my guest speakers have fought in or fled conflict zones or have substantially pivoted their approach to climate change activism. The students receive the guests’ bios in advance so they know what to expect. Trigger warnings and content alerts are part of the repertoire, but anything can be potentially harrowing for someone. Plus, for legitimate reasons, students may arrive late or may not read advance cautions and are are then caught unawares.
Ultimately, the baseline for my teaching seeks root causes to focus on constructive actions. I infrequently sanitize material, but nor do I seek out especially extreme, gruesome, or controversial content. And I frame it around what could have been done to stop the problems, what should be done now, and what we can all do in our careers to generate improvements. After all, students select my modules for a reason and they should surmise that they will learn about humanity’s worst in order to identify and become humanity’s best.
Disasters including conflicts can and should be prevented which enfolds all actions related to human-caused climate change. Knowing that we have the knowledge, ability, resources, and determination for needed action can support mental health and well-being. Students learn what they could do for themselves, their families, their communities, their employers, and the world.
My university also promotes “disagreeing well.” We can and should have divergences, sometimes responding emotionally, feeling offended, and arguing with passion. This should not interfere with respectful debates and exchanges, recognizing how and why different opinions arise. We might even find common ground.
Yet nor should the university classroom be a place for anguish or for false hope—the often overabundant and misleading element of “hopium.” People do suffer immeasurably, and we could do so much more for them. To interlace mental health and effective action, university classrooms should accept these two fundamentals, present how to improve, and frequently disagree on so much while moving forward positively together.
In doing so, we must not cause more problems than we solve. Adjustment and flexibility are essential, since teaching inevitably involves learning—which, in turn, supports staff mental health and well-being.
References
Lewis, A. 2019. The need for contextualisation in the analysis of curriculum content in conflict. Education and Conflict Review, 2, 28-32.
McTernan, E. 2023. On Taking Offence. Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Spence, M. 2023. “Balancing humility and conviction is the art of disagreeing well”. Times Higher Education, August 31, 2023.
Ilan Kelman, Ph.D., is Professor of Disasters and Health at University College London, England and a Professor II at the University of Agder, Kristiansand, Norway.
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There’s been a fundamental shift in how we define adulthood—and at what pace it occurs. PT’s authors consider how a once iron-clad construct is now up for grabs—and what it means for young people’s mental health today.
