Being a teen is tough. Being a teen whose parents might suddenly disappear is even tougher.
One Michigan, an organization run by and for immigrant youth in the Detroit area, recognized a growing stress level among its members several years ago. In response, its leaders created CALM, a program that uses the power of community to promote mental health for immigrant teens.
Some program participants immigrated with their families, while others are first- or second-generation citizens, at various stages of the legal documentation process.
Piling on top of what many call a
national youth mental health crisis, today’s political climate means immigrant youth often live in physical and emotional peril, navigating a complicated present while planning for an uncertain future.
The meals and activities built into teen-designed CALM sessions help participants build resilience as they face difficult situations together. The program helps kids talk about their emotions with people who understand, says One Michigan Executive Director Samantha Magdaleno.
And young immigrants need that kind of help now more than ever, she says. The mental health strain of recent national events is “huge,” Magdaleno says. “Our kids are very stressed.”
Talking and playing
Like teens across the country, One Michigan participants have reported declining mental health in recent years. To complicate matters, many of the dwindling number of therapists available don’t speak immigrant teens’ language or understand their culture.
Wanting to help, One Michigan leadership asked teens what would make them feel safe talking about their struggles.
The answer: fun. Activities that promote group bonding, such as sharing a meal or having an adventure, make serious conversations easier, the teens said. One Michigan formed its youth mental health program around that principle and named it CALM, which stands for Cuisine, Amor (“love” in Spanish), Language, and Mureeh — an Arabic word roughly translated as “relax” or “comfortable.”
The organization hosts conversation sessions at the One Michigan office, grouped around topics teens say concern them. Each session’s topic is kept secret, even from participants until they arrive, and remains confidential after they leave. That confidentiality helps build trust crucial to sharing sensitive stories, Magdaleno says.
Sessions address depression, anxiety, eating disorders, sexual assault, or other serious life issues, led by someone with lived experience. Teens share their perspectives and offer solutions with no pressure to have the right answers.
Then, they play. CALM intentionally circumvents the awkwardness that can follow a deep conversation by creating a shared experience that’s fun and engaging.
The teens vote to select a meal and an activity. Sometimes, groups cook a meal together or visit a restaurant serving food they’ve never tried. They may go skiing or visit an escape room or travel to another city. The experience bonds the group and helps cement the crucial conversation that came before it.
With its in-house, youth-built design, the program has taken off by word of mouth, with so many teens clamoring to join that she has to turn some away, Magdaleno says. She’d like to see it continue and expand, but a $10,000
grant from the Skillman Foundation in 2023 isn’t enough to keep it going, and other large funding has been slow in coming.
‘It really does help’
Today’s teens really do struggle to be mentally and emotionally strong, says 19-year-old Iris Jimenez, co-director of the CALM program.
She has seen the program encourage teens to safely verbalize their difficulties and share resources, helping them feel connected at a time when that connection is especially crucial.
Many of her friends, also immigrant teens, live in fear that the government is going to take their parents away. As a college student, Jiminez worries about the miles that separate her from family members whose safety feels precarious in the current political climate. “It’s a pretty big anxiety,” she says, “wondering what’s going to happen next.”
But talking and playing in CALM’s supportive community makes it better.
“It’s a way to connect us together,” she says. “It really does help out.”
Compounded stresses
Right now, immigrant teens need mental health help more than ever, Magdaleno says.
Some of the teens involved in One Michigan programs are documented. Others are not. To be documented means to have all legal documents to enter, stay or work in the United States.
Many teens have undocumented immigrants in their family or friend circles. With deportation a growing talking point on the national and local stage, the teens live in fear of authorities, and even of the nonprofits that collect personal data as a part of offering help.
Some report abuse by teachers who know parents won’t take legal action against them for fear of revealing their undocumented status.
If an undocumented father is late coming home from work, the teen is flooded with worry, thinking, “Did he get picked up? Did he get deported? What’s going to happen to my family?” Magdaleno says.
One teen whose mother had fallen unconscious called Magdaleno instead of 911, afraid her mother would be deported if she called the police. Another, after learning the result of the 2024 presidential election, gave up a chance at law school and took a job to earn money in case her parents were taken away.
Such stresses compound the already complicated lives of immigrant teens, who often already serve as caretakers for parents who don’t speak English. Tension, fear, and an increasingly hostile environment are straining immigrant families to the limit, and “These kids, they’re the ones that are carrying it,” Magdaleno says.
And that, she says, is why One Michigan needs to find a way to keep CALM going, despite inadequate financial resources. The organization needs to keep offering a safe place to share scary thoughts, explore solutions, and form bonds to carry them through a trying time, “so they can get maximum help.”
This story is part of the Nonprofit Journal Project, an initiative focused on nonprofit leaders and programs across Metro Detroit. This series is made possible with the generous support of our partners, the Ralph C. Wilson Jr. Foundation, Michigan Nonprofit Association and Co.act Detroit.