Of gangs, adolescents, and winners

As the outrage over a ragging incident at Jahangirnagar University died out, news about gangs of Uttara took its place, complete with a picture of a young man gone too soon.

These incidents reveal the potentially high but underestimated use of violence among young adults, reminding me of a recent study suggesting that having friends who use violence increase young adults' odds of using violence themselves, pointing to the social acceptance of violence, and the role of peers and friends in shaping individual behaviours, including destructive ones. Or perhaps I should say, particularly destructive ones.

In a recent study I conducted on South Asian adolescents, I found that those who experienced bullying were more likely to report depression symptoms including suicide ideation.

This, of course, is not surprising.

What is surprising though is how little we talk about adolescent health, particularly mental health, in Bangladesh and perhaps even the rest of South Asia. That bullying victimisation is connected to mental health is important to know; parents, teachers, and students all need to be aware of the effects of bullying that casts a long shadow right into their adulthood. Individuals are more likely to experience Post Trauma Stress Disorder (PTSD), complex PTSD, depression, anxiety across the lifespan when they experience bullying as adolescents, research shows, and it is important that policymakers take note of this because what we see in practice – in schools and at home - is the opposite of what we want to see.

Bullying is often dismissed as a rite of passage; bullies are often held in "high esteem" possibly out of fear and because they are deemed powerful and popular, and in the name of "ragging", bullies get away with almost anything, including murder. In the fear of being bullied themselves, few stand up for those who are bullied, and for the fear of repercussions associated with being a "snitch", few report it to authorities or anyone else.  And thus continues the cycle.

In Social Work, we talk about being trauma informed, about asking "what happened to you?" instead of "what's wrong with you?" In line with that frame of thought, we need to understand that most bullies are not bullies because they choose to be so. Most bullies have trauma history, such as child abuse – including exposure to domestic violence or intimate partner violence, which they learn to re-enact in other settings and situations. In the absence of actual tools of conflict resolution, they learn that violence is the only tool of conflict resolution, only way to gain control, only way to negotiate. This tool of violence is likely to remain with them, and they are likely to continue to use violence in their personal lives, as adults, to meet their own needs, to control situations that they want control over.

Unless they get help.

Help is admittedly difficult to get in Bangladesh given the dearth of mental health providers. Clearly, greater investment in infrastructure to address mental health problems is absolutely necessary. But when we talk of infrastructure we often think about brick and mortar infrastructure – we need more than that. We need to think about how we have stigmatised mental health problems, we have to think about how we have normalised violence without realising the effects that it has on the human condition. Then we have to think creatively about de-stigmatising mental health problems, recognise that violence begets violence. We need to redefine "infrastructure" especially in a post-war, post-genocide nation like ours; recent research after all suggests that trauma may be intergenerationally transmitted. That violence has persisted in independent Bangladesh perhaps speaks to how that trauma happens.

At the same time, though, we have to realise that the neoliberal world order has to change for human beings to stop acting like they're in a rat race that must be won at all costs. The practices of unhealthy competition, which many schools are made of, have to change. The creation of "leaders" as if everyone can be a leader has to be re-thought.  We need to focus on being human and humane. Not winners (and losers). Not money and material goods.

Maybe if we didn't expect all of our youth to be leaders, these gangs of high school students in Uttara wouldn't take it upon themselves to become leaders of violent groups. If these young adults didn't feel the need to "win" all the time, maybe they would figure out what they really want to do with their lives. Maybe if violence didn't become a form of social currency, the youth wouldn't be enticed by it.

What we need to do is reframe the idea of success, not equate it with money and power, but make it about purpose, about finding meaning in life.

Because if we don't, we will lose ourselves. And possibly our young adults. To money and power and the means to acquire them.

The writer is Assistant Professor, School of Social Work, University at Buffalo, State University of New York.