Drag Queer Folk Singing and A Plea to the Powerful!

Hello,

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. Psychiatric patients often have so little voice, so your attention to these matters means something.

I'm sitting here feeling frightened, angry, confused, and wondering, "What do I say to the most powerful people in the state?" What could be the consequences of my speaking out? What will DMH do or say to discredit me? Do people actually care about us (psychiatric patients)? Will this make a difference in my care or in anybody else's care?

Four years ago, I was so appalled by how I and other patients were being treated that I began writing complaints, making phone calls, and sending emails to raise awareness. I felt I had little chance of survival, or of a life worth living, under these conditions, and I might as well let the world know what goes on in these hospitals.

The retaliation and mistreatment that followed were shocking. I was naive. I thought, "If I just talk to the right person, someone with enough power in the system, they will fix this." Instead, even after meeting with some of DMH's highest-ranking leadership, things got worse. I was forcibly placed on an ambulance stretcher, restrained, and transferred to an acute forensic psychiatric unit despite not being under criminal investigation and despite being hospitalized on a conditional voluntary status. I believe that transfer was unlawful.

I still remember Rep. John Moran and then-Boston City Councilor Tania Fernandes Anderson getting involved in advocating for me. They spoke directly with then-Commissioner Brooke Doyle to prevent DMH from discharging me to a shelter. The Commissioner committed to them that this would not happen, yet DMH later attempted to do it again. Rep. Moran and Councilor Fernandes Anderson had to intervene a second time.

That was a huge realization for me: if DMH doesn't even honor commitments made directly to a state representative and a Boston City Council member, why would I trust them to honor my rights or the rights of my fellow patients?

You may have already seen the petition I initially started to get Jean Bash's death investigated. In that petition, I raise allegations of criminal conduct by staff at Lemuel Shattuck Hospital, systemic abuse of queer patients, and concerns about whether the hospital's actions or failures contributed to Jean's death. I ask you: Who has more incentive to lie? Who has more incentive to cover up the hellish conditions in these hospitals that so many advocates and legal advocacy organizations have been raising concerns about?

DMH would have you believe that I'm doing this for attention, that I'm lying, manipulating, and being deceptive. And I ask you: For what?

So that my pronouns will be respected? So that patients can write letters for one another? So that I can participate in decisions about my own care? So that I have access to medications I need? So that staff members identify themselves when asked? So that staff stop closing windows in the faces of me and my advocate, Sera Davidow? So that I don't have to fear being assaulted through the unlawful use of restraint?

Are these really unreasonable demands?

Don't take my word for it. Talk to Thomas Brown, whose letter is included in the attached PDF and who has dedicated his life to raising awareness of the very conditions I'm describing. Talk to Sera Davidow, who has spent much of her career advocating for psychiatric patients and whom many of you know personally.

Read the letter from the Disability Law Center and DMH's response. Listen to Ivy McCall, a licensed clinical social worker who has put her professional reputation on the line by documenting what she directly witnessed in my treatment team meetings. Consider the perspective of my private psychologist.

Look at all of these pieces together and ask yourselves: "Is there really nothing going on here?"

After Sera Davidow began acting as my advocate, attending my team meetings, and meeting regularly with Lemuel Shattuck and DMH administration, things actually began to improve. They made some concessions, moved me to a better floor, and agreed to allow me to maintain my relationship with the psychiatrist I'd been working with for two years.

DMH has told Sera and other advocates that "And's always going to find something to complain about," implying that I cannot or will not work with the system.

That is simply not true.

When things improved and I began to feel heard, I stopped sending mass emails. I worked closely with the nurses on my new floor, sought mediation when conflicts with staff couldn't be resolved, and involved advocates to help improve communication.

I didn't need to keep escalating complaints when people were willing to listen and work with me.

But those improvements haven't lasted, and my efforts to resolve problems collaboratively have not been enough. That's why I'm writing again.

Things I'd rather be doing with my time:

Visiting with other patients. Playing Scrabble. Working on my dance, yoga, and qigong. Writing science fiction short stories. Journaling. Working on my relationships outside of DMH. Advocating for changes to the mental health system in Massachusetts. Dressing up in drag and playing folk songs on my guitar.

And, especially, getting the fuck out of here, but in a way that is supportive and safe and maximizes my chances of not repeating a lifetime of being in and out of hospitals.

I have so much to offer. And instead, I'm spending my time writing these damn emails, begging for the most basic standards of care for myself and other patients.

There's risk in speaking out. I know that from experience. But there's even more risk in remaining silent while the system makes decisions about my care without me, decisions that could leave me, at best, with a life full of pain and without much meaning.

I'm asking you to take these concerns seriously. Look beyond the explanations DMH has offered. Speak directly with the people who have witnessed what is happening. Use your authority to ensure that my rights and the rights of other patients are protected.

I'm not asking for special treatment. I'm asking to be treated as a human being whose life, voice, choices, and rights matter. And I'm asking you to recognize that the same is true of every person in these hospitals.

Thank you for listening.

And