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The day I met Michael Schratter, his reputation preceded him and with good reason. He had, in 2010, cycled around the world (yup you read that right!). The globe, people – the whole entire planet earth - in the name of smashing stigma. I can’t even imagine biking up the hill of my friend’s driveway, let alone across several continents. So I thought Michael’s ka-pow kind of story was perfect to share on my blog. So without further ado, here’s his story in his own words:
What kind of person would bicycle around the world yelling that he is crazy? A crazy person. Obviously.
My name is Michael Schratter and I am bipolar. I also happen to be a Canadian Jew, a teacher, a part-time journalist, a husband, a father, a brother, and a son. But it is the label of mental illness that carries the most weight.
In my opinion, there is no other human affliction still so misunderstood, feared, and ultimately stigmatized. And it is this stigma, along with the prejudice so often encountered by those that have dealt with mental illness that is perhaps the greatest issue when it comes to recovery.
Imagine returning to work after a sick leave with a cast on your broken arm. You can expect sympathy, humorous get-well cards, and support from your colleagues. Now imagine yourself returning to work and telling them you were away because of a schizophrenic episode, a debilitating anxiety attack, or some other onset of acute mental illness. The same social support needed to expedite your healing likely won’t be so readily present. There is also a serious possibility that such forthrightness has jeopardized your future social and professional opportunities, and you are more likely to be ostracized.
A few months before I started a science degree program at UBC in 1993 my father was killed in a bicycle accident. I began university – what should have been an exciting new period of my life – dealing with major anxiety and depression. I eventually succumbed to a manic episode that left me hospitalized, but also set me on the long road to recovery and self-awareness.
UBC’s Student Health Services provided me with easy and quick access to the professional help I needed, allowing me to persevere and complete my schooling. After graduating with a degree in biology, followed by another in education, I became a teacher.
The psychiatrist I saw when I was a student and helped a lot of other young adults grappling with mental illnesses and tough academic demands. Knowing I wasn’t alone – that there were other students on campus dealing with similar issues – was extremely comforting and took the edge off my fears for the future. And yet on a social level I was still guarded about what I was going through. For as long as I can remember, the fear of being seen as “crazy,” of being outed as “crazy,” has had me spend enormous amounts of emotional energy in remaining hidden.
As the hyper-social animals we are, it is essential to feel support and empathy when we are hurt. Whether dealing with a physical or psychiatric setback, study after study shows that when we feel support and empathy from those around us during our period of healing we tend to recover faster and to a fuller extent. And yet, regrettably, there is an argument to be made that when suffering with mental illness you might be better off keeping your mouth shut about it, or at least be very selective in choosing who to tell.
It was while dealing with the social repercussions of the manic episode at UBC that I realized the absurd injustice behind my secretive behavior. This inspired a plan to cycle around the world and draw attention to the damaging effects of the stigma surrounding mental illness. Ride Don’t Hide was born. Everyone in my social sphere would know I was bipolar. Once started, there was no turning back. Why? Because I believe that if we talk about the stigma it will begin to disappear. If we can share the common story of how mental illness affects so many lives, we will see it for what it is: a variation of the human condition.
Cycling as a form of travel was introduced to me by my parents and we enjoyed family bike trips together in British Columbia and Europe while I was growing up. After my father died, I sought solitude in a solo bike trip across Canada. Upon reaching the shores of Newfoundland, I decided that some day I would cycle around the world.
My route ahead, on the side of the Andes in Colombia
On August 1, 2010, with the Vancouver School Board granting me leave and a partnership with the Canadian Mental Health Association BC (CMHABC), I set out from Vancouver to cycle the equatorial distance of 40,000 km around the planet, a journey that would take me across six continents and 33 countries, and present me with 31 flat tires.
From the road I wrote and maintained a travel blog, conducted dozens of media interviews, and wrote a biweekly mental illness awareness newspaper column that was published in Vancouver 24H. Back at home my colleagues worked hard to create awareness of the Ride Don’t Hide campaign with many successful fundraising efforts and ultimately the global ride raised $100,000 towards mental health awareness initiatives for youth and their families.
They say behind every great man there is a great woman. Well I’d say that behind every ‘crazy’ man there is an extraordinary woman. The fact that I was able to complete the ride, the fact that the campaign reached any level of legitimacy and made any difference whatsoever has everything to do with my partner, Deborah So. Not only did Deborah encourage me to follow my dreams and take the risk, she basically ran the then grass-roots campaign from the corner of her desk while working full-time.
So what did I learn from the ride? Perhaps it has something to do with being on a bicycle, but no matter where I went people were friendly and helpful. And outside a few harrowing incidents with traffic, never did I feel in danger. Ultimately, I learned that the world is a safe and kind place and I think all we want is a little respect; we all need a little love. And of course a person dealing with mental illness is no different.
Having a mental illness has nothing to do with being weak of mind, of bad character or a moral failure. It is a biological affliction like any other. I think for me the greatest triumph of completing Ride Don’t Hide was to prove that point. If I were a weak person, I wouldn’t have had the mental strength it required to cycle 16 months, day in, day out, regardless of the challenges presented by weather, geography and loneliness.
To adequately describe how I felt cycling into Vancouver on the last day of Ride Don’t Hide on November 12, 2011, 469 days after I’d set off is beyond me. Some two hundred cyclists came out that day to ride with me into downtown Vancouver. With a police escort leading us the whole way, we arrived wet but safe to a cheering crowd of several hundred waiting for us at Rogers Arena stadium. I was free.
And yet the best was yet to come!
Riders waiting to start.
Today Ride Don’t Hide is an, annual Canadian Mental Health Association non-profit event that falls on the last Sunday in June before the Canada Day Long Weekend. It has grown from a few communities taking part back in the first annual community ride in 2012, to now, its 4th year, being the largest participatory mental health awareness event in Canada.
On Sunday, June 21, 2015 there will be Ride Don’t Hide community rides in 40 different towns and cities across Canada. 5000 Canadians are expected to participate in some fun physical activity and over $1 million will be raised for CMHA’s mental health awareness programs.
We live in extraordinary times. In the last decade we have seen an accelerating change in public awareness and attitude towards mental illness. Education, business leadership, and the newfound collective courage of the millions of us that are or have been afflicted, together we are casting light in the dark corners of fear and misunderstanding.
At this time there may be no cure for the collection of emotional/cognitive afflictions known as ‘mental illness.’ That said, the medicine to cure the social disease of mental illness stigma has been discovered. The medicine is community mental health awareness events like Ride Don’t Hide.
When thousands of men, women, and children come together across Canada to have a fun day of cycling in the summer sun with laughter and excitement, the hope for tomorrow is present and the fear vanishes.
The mental health movement can finally say that the fight against mental illness stigma is being won. Together we are building a more empathetic future.
Bio:
Michael Schratter is a Vancouver School Board teacher and the founder of the Ride Don't Hide. Today Ride Don't Hide has become Canada's largest annual mental health awareness event. On June 21, 2015, there will be over forty Ride Don't Hide community rides across Canada.
If you are interested having your business or organization being a part of Ride Don't Hide, please contact michael@ridedonthide.com
