Celebrating Pride: Finding Purpose by Creating Community

Featured Author: Casey Farmer

I am an out-lesbian scientist whose life has been shaped by mental health challenges since age 11. Reflecting back, depression and anxiety followed me as I began looking for my place in the world and longed for a purpose. Ultimately, in navigating my identity, I realized mental health balance can be sensitive to the politics of the places you live throughout your life…

          Where I grew up in the United States, it took nearly 17 years to realize there were many different ways one could live and present as a lesbian, contrary to the popular biased and hateful depictions of them and other LGBTQ identities. My first “purpose” after my mental health challenges began was organizing the first LGBTQ club in my high school where students could cultivate community together and fight against bullying. Having been bullied terribly in addition to surviving an abusive relationship, I found great solace in this group of kind-hearted people who all believed in the power of community. We closely followed the political discussions around LGBTQ individuals at the time holding the hope of teenagers who believed we could build a better world. The summer I graduated high school, gay marriage was legalized across the United States in a landmark Supreme Court decision.

          I chose to attend college at an Ivy League institution to ensure I stayed intellectually engaged in rigorous programs. I’ve always been a nerd who enjoys studying, reading, and learning daily in any way I can. Furthermore, at 18, I wanted to move on from the South and find a community more accepting of me. Upon arrival at school, I realized many of my peers were far more worldly than I saw myself. I struggled – for the first time – with imposter syndrome as I navigated these complex undergraduate communities. During my first few semesters, I barely left my dorm and my diet suffered due to depression. I missed many classes, even subjects that once compelled me no longer felt meaningful. 

          Once again, I found friends in the LGBTQ community and in the school’s mental health and wellness club. When you grow up in a more passive culture where no one talks about challenging things, talking about challenging things is all you want to do to feel better. I met lifelong, wonderful friends here who have always been able to meet me where I am at and I support them the same.

          I went to graduate school after working through the pandemic. I’d found great purpose in primatology and ecology and wanted to pursue this as a vocation. My partner of four years (at the time, now 9 years) and I moved across the country to start graduate school in Chicago. Immediately, I was struck by the intense discussion of mental health and wellness in academia with no change or action occurring in my field. I’d never felt more isolated and without a network. I was a teaching assistant, a research assistant, graded countless student papers, excelled in classes and in field work, and developed and defended an impressive graduate research thesis. Despite all these accomplishments, I could not talk to my peers about my internal struggles in academia and my raging imposter syndrome. My self-esteem and self-confidence were the lowest they had ever been, in contrast with the deep love I’d once had for the field.

          I realized my anxiety, panic disorder, and depression all flared in response to the structure of the US academia system. Those who think differently and are quirky are invited in, but the system is not inherently built for our success or wellness. I never had enough time to rest, or cultivate relationships with my partner, friends, and family. Eventually, I had to choose between my wellness and an academic career. It ended up being the easiest decision of my life, albeit devastating at the time. Especially as someone who once built a lot of my identity around that career and passion, I felt divorced from that which gave me meaning. When work became so fused with identity, how could I unravel who I really was? What was my purpose here? I grieved this loss while working on understanding that my worth is not tied only to my achievements. Daily, I still grapple with the concept of my worth not being based on high achievements, but I have made significant progress over the past two years.

          I’ve always been able to reconnect to my passions through volunteer work. After graduating graduate school, I scoured local postings for volunteer work with animals. For most of high school, I’d volunteered socializing and enriching cats at my local animal shelter. I wanted to find something in this vein to keep me going while I applied endlessly for jobs at a low point in depression. I regard the period after graduation as one of the most difficult depressions of my life.

          Five minutes down the road from where my partner and I live with our rescued cat and dog, an animal shelter was accepting volunteer applications. I interviewed, knowing this was finally my opportunity to find the community here that I’d craved for three-and-a-half years. Instantly, I felt true kindness and camaraderie amongst people working for a common cause. When an hourly animal caregiver position became available a few months later, I decided not to overthink my scientific training and degree and follow my heart to the community where I fit in.

          Now, I lead a team of 14 animal caregivers here and focus on cultivating kindness and community. I ensure a young and diverse team of humans who care so much have the kind of boss I longed for as a hopeful, nerdy college student mistreated by a boss or two. Every day, I am proud I chose my health and wellness over anything else. Looking out for others has always made my burdens less heavy. As we look out for each other, we are also actively improving the lives of society’s homeless animals. I continually arrive at the same conclusion as I did as a young person in fostering communities of kindness: We will always be stronger in community.