Causal Argument rewrite—PatrickTheStar

A Crisis Exposed: How the COVID-19 Pandemic Amplified
Mental Health Inequities in Marginalized Communities

When we think about how people struggle emotionally, it’s easy to assume it just “happened out of nowhere.” But just like how our tears aren’t always straightforward—sometimes we’re crying out of relief instead of happiness—mental health challenges rarely show up without deeper reasons behind them. The COVID-19 pandemic didn’t suddenly invent all the problems we’ve been seeing in marginalized communities. Instead, it tossed extra weight onto their shoulders, making issues that had been there all along stand out in painful relief. Economic struggles, limited access to healthcare, and racial discrimination have been simmering for years, and when the pandemic hit, it was like pouring fuel on a fire that was already burning. The point is, we can’t look at today’s mental health crisis without acknowledging the long, messy history that made certain groups more vulnerable in the first place.

Picture a family in a low-income neighborhood before anyone had even heard of COVID-19. Maybe they’re juggling two or three part-time jobs, barely making rent, and certainly not able to pay for therapy sessions or costly mental health care. Sure, they might be stressed, but they’ve gotten used to a steady grind of making do with less. Now fast-forward to the pandemic. Suddenly, job security vanishes overnight, schools close, and everyone’s packed into a small apartment with no space and no quiet. Stress isn’t just stress anymore—it’s a crushing sense of “How will we afford next month’s bills?” and “Who will help us if one of us gets sick?” Their mental health deteriorates fast, and it’s not some random coincidence. It’s the direct outcome of years of being on shaky ground.

Immigrant communities know this story well, too. Even before the virus spread, many immigrants struggle with language barriers, limited trust in the healthcare system, and fear that seeking help might raise questions about their legal status. When COVID-19 hit, those fears and challenges multiplied. Confusing public health messages and uneven financial help made it harder than ever to stay calm and hopeful. Feeling anxious or depressed in that situation isn’t just about COVID-19—it’s about living in a place that never truly felt safe or supportive to begin with.

We have actual research showing that the pandemic made existing inequalities worse. For example, Rathore, Connolly, and Karter (2020) point out that COVID-19 “deepened pre-existing socioeconomic and related inequities.” This means everything we’ve been seeing—the rise in stress, anxiety, and depression—was pretty much set in motion by older problems no one fixed in time. Another study published in the American Journal of Public Health (2021) found that Black, Hispanic, and Asian individuals ended up with steeper declines in mental health and more unmet mental health care needs than White respondents. In other words, the groups already pushed to the margins were the ones who suffered the most when the crisis hit. It’s like seeing someone crying at a celebration—if you don’t know they’ve been dealing with months of stress, you might think they’re just “emotional.” But once you know the backstory, the tears (or in this case, the mental health crisis) make a lot more sense.

Immigrant communities faced a similar pile-up of issues. According to Đoàn et al. (2021), limited financial resources, confusion around health services, and cultural barriers made it even tougher for immigrants to deal with the pandemic’s emotional toll. This is a classic example of how a crisis exposes old wounds. Without clear support and understanding, stress skyrockets. We can’t blame COVID-19 alone for that; we have to see the pandemic’s impact as part of a chain reaction set off by long-standing inequities.

Even well-meant solutions didn’t always fix things. Take telehealth, for instance. Sure, it helped some people get therapy during lockdown. But what if you don’t have a stable internet connection or speak the same language as the counselor? Thomeer, Moody, and Yahirun (2022) showed that racial and ethnic disparities in mental health care got wider during the pandemic, proving that “one-size-fits-all” solutions just aren’t enough. If the ground is uneven to start with, giving everyone the same tool doesn’t level it out.

It’s kind of like seeing someone cry and not understanding the reason. We might shrug it off or feel annoyed because we don’t get it. Similarly, when confronted with the stats and stories of mental health struggles in certain communities during COVID-19, some folks might say, “Well, everyone’s stressed.” But that misses the point. Not everyone had the same chances to stay afloat before the pandemic hit. If you were already on the edge, something like COVID-19 is going to hit you ten times harder.

The big takeaway? We can’t treat this mental health crisis as a fluke or a one-time emergency. As Rathore et al. (2020) suggest, we need policies that actually acknowledge these built-in inequalities. Expanding health coverage, making sure mental health services are easy to find and culturally sensitive, and improving basic living conditions would help prevent future disasters from pushing these communities over the brink. When we understand why the tears are flowing, we’re more likely to show compassion and work on the root causes instead of just handing out tissues.

In the end, the COVID-19 pandemic didn’t create mental health issues out of thin air. It exposed and intensified them, showing us who had been left behind all along. Just as understanding why a friend cries at a supposedly happy event gives us deeper empathy and better ways to help, understanding the causes behind today’s mental health disparities should drive us to fix the underlying problems. If we learn anything from this moment, it’s that we have to address the big picture—those long-standing economic, social, and racial imbalances—so that when the next crisis comes around, we’re not replaying the same painful scene.


References

  • American Journal of Public Health. (2021). Racial and Ethnic Disparities in Mental Health and Mental Health Care During The COVID-19 Pandemic. Retrieved from https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s40615-022-01284-9
  • Đoàn, L. N., Chong, S. K., Misra, S., Kwon, S. C., & Yi, S. S. (2021). Immigrant Communities and COVID-19: Strengthening the Public Health Response. American Journal of Public Health, 111(S3), S224–S231. https://doi.org/10.2105/AJPH.2021.306433
  • Rathore, K., Connolly, G., & Karter, C. (2020, September). Recommendations to Address the Inequitable Impacts of COVID-19 in Child Welfare, Housing, and Community Capacity. Chapin Hall Issue Brief. Chapin Hall at the University of Chicago.

Thomeer, M. B., Moody, M. D., & Yahirun, J. (2022). Racial and Ethnic Disparities in Mental Health and Mental Health Care During The COVID-19 Pandemic. Journal of Racial and Ethnic Health Disparities. PMCID: PMC8939391

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3 Responses to Causal Argument rewrite—PatrickTheStar

  1. davidbdale's avatar davidbdale says:

    Holy shit.

    I have read just the first paragraph of your essay, Patrickthestar, and I hardly care what follows!

    Those 200 words (or so) are such a slap across the face that I almost don’t care what follows.

    When we think about how people struggle emotionally, it’s easy to assume it just “happened out of nowhere.” But just like how our tears aren’t always straightforward—sometimes we’re crying out of relief instead of happiness—mental health challenges rarely show up without deeper reasons behind them.

    —This is so emotionally charged that, anyone who bails on your essay before proceeding is not worth keeping. Beautiful analogy.

    —All the same, the sentence would be more effective if it contained a brief reference to COVID. And it could.

    The COVID-19 pandemic didn’t suddenly invent all the problems we’ve been seeing in marginalized communities. Instead, it tossed extra weight onto their shoulders, making issues that had been there all along stand out in painful relief.

    —Be careful. Extra weight on the shoulders doesn’t cause anything to stand out. Also, painful relief is hard to comprehend. “Relief” is what occurs when the foreground can be distinguished from the background. How can that be painful?

    Economic struggles, limited access to healthcare, and racial discrimination have been simmering for years, and when the pandemic hit, it was like pouring fuel on a fire that was already burning.

    Struggles don’t simmer, neither does access, nor does discrimination, but the pot or stew that contains them all MIGHT. But you don’t pour fuel on the stew. You pour fuel on the fire if there is one. See the problem? I love the paragraph, not the metaphor.

    The point is, we can’t look at today’s mental health crisis without acknowledging the long, messy history that made certain groups more vulnerable in the first place.

    “look at it” or “understand it”?

  2. davidbdale's avatar davidbdale says:

    Picture a family in a lowincome neighborhood

    —Love the way you went immediately to the specific case.

    It’s the direct outcome of years of being on shaky ground.

    —Fucking awesome.

    Immigrant communities know this story well, too. Even before the virus spread . . .

    —Brilliant transition from one compromised community to another.

    a place that never truly felt safe or supportive to begin with.

    —perfect wrapup.

    actual research showing that the pandemic made existing inequalities worse.

    —Just what is called for here.

    groups already pushed to the margins were the ones who suffered the most

    —gorgeous phrasing

    for Immigrant communities, a crisis exposes old wounds

    —say it.

    Even well-meant solutions didn’t always fix things. Take telehealth, for instance.

    —Where’s the one sentence I can quote that says, “Even telehealth, which was supposed to bridge the gap for the underserved, didn’t provide services for the truly needy.”?

    It’s kind of like seeing someone cry and not understanding the reason.

    —What is?
    —Believe me, I’m with you, but if you don’t say it right, it doesn’t land.

    “Seeing a community in crisis and not understanding the brutal economic prerogatives that keep them from staying healthy is kind of like seeing someone cry . . . “?

    —Be specific or don’t bother, PTS.

    I ran out of time half an hour ago. Does this help? If you don’t respond, I won’t only be hurt, I’ll likely be very reluctant to come back here to see what else I can do.

    Love you. 🙂

  3. davidbdale's avatar davidbdale says:

    You’ve started to abandon caution and boldly claim what you know to be true.

    Could you be wrong? Sure!

    Should you care? Abso-freaking-lutely not!

    Nobody worth talking to has stuck to a consistent position her entire life!

    Be worth talking to!

    Leave no doubt what you know to be true!

    I will talk to you anytime, any place.

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